« .  .  ..t  _  .^  >  .•  •  • 
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;•....  •.•;,•>.;.. 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


,,f 


»___» 

4 


Clinging  desperately  to  the  sharp  edge 


MASTERS  OF  MEN 


BY 

MORGAN  ROBERTSON 


McKINLAY,  STONE  &  MACKENZIE 

NEW  YORK 


COPTBIGHT,  1901, 

BY  CURTIS  PUBLISHING  CO. 

COj?YBiaHT,   1W)X. 

BY  DOUBLEDAY,  PAGE  &  CO, 


To  my  Wife — a  aood  woman 


634049 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

. 

BOOK  I 
THE  AGE  OF  STONE 1 

BOOK  II 
THE  AGE  OF  IRON 37 

BOOK  III 
BARBARISM 104 

BOOK  IV 
CIVILIZATION       .......     198 


MASTERS  OF  MEN 

BOOK  I 
THE  AGE  OF  STONE 

CHAPTER  I 

A  BOY  of  fifteen  was  being  vigorously  cuffed  and 
kicked  by  a  larger  boy,  and  a  black-haired  girl 
was  speeding  toward  them  on  the  sidewalk,  when  from 
across  the  street  came  another  boy— red-haired  and 
freckled— who  jumped  puddles  and  arrived  on  the 
scene  coincident  with  the  girl. 

"  Let  my  brother  alone,  you— you — you  mean  old 
thing,"  she  cried  as,  with  flashing  eyes  and  fingers 
working  nervously,  she  confronted  the  pair. 

"Ah,  gwan,"  answered  the  cuffer,  with  a  quick, 
comprehensive  glance  at  the  working  fingers  and 
sharp  nails ;  "  he  hit  me  wid  a  rock." 

"  He  hit  me  first,"  screamed  the  victim.  He  was 
*  pink-cheeked  boy  in  knickerbockers— the  type  of 
boy  that  is  seldom  punished  at  home. 

"  Take  some  one  your  own  size,"  said  the  red- 
haired  boy. 

"  Go  chase  yourself,  Dick  Halpin ;  this  ain't  your 

funeral." 

"  Let  up — drop  it — let  him  go  !  " 

"Make  him  stop.  Oh,  please  make  him  stop,H 
wailed  the  girl,  changing  front  at  the  prospect  of  a 
champion. 

There  was  a  confused  tangle  of  arms  and  legs, 


£  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

from  which  the  boy  in  knickerbockers  emerged  and 
sped  to  the  middle  of  the  street;  then,  while  the  girl 
wrung  her  hands  anxiously,  the  whirl  of  combat  con 
tinued  until  the  larger  boy  shot  off  at  a  tangent, 
and,  colliding  with  the  fence,  collapsed  in  an  aston 
ished  heap.  He  had  not  been  struck,  nor  was  he  hurt, 
but  the  strength  and  courage  of  the  red-haired  boy 
— smaller  than  himself — was  so  completely  at  vari 
ance  with  his  record,  as  to  call,  first  for  respect,  then 
analysis  and  classification ;  all  of  which  required  time 
and  distance.  So,  with  a  promise  to  "  square  up," 
he  arose  and  departed  followed  by  a  threatening  "  get 
out,"  from  Dick,  and  a  well-aimed  stone  from  the  boy 
in  the  street. 

Dick  Halpin,  red-haired,  slim  and  under-sized,  had 
no  standing  as  a  fighter.  Not  that  he  lacked  courage, 
or  the  quickest  of  tempers ;  it  simply  had  not  come 
to  him.  He  possessed  a  dignity — or,  possibly,  a  lack 
of  dignity — and  a  quiet  geniality  and  insistence  of 
manner,  which,  with  a  certain  readiness  of  speech, 
had  always  won  him  his  point  in  schoolboy  friction. 
And  in  schoolboy  ethics  there  was  no  legitimate  rea 
son  for  his  interfering  in  this  manner.  He  had  seen 
the  treacherously  thrown  "  rock  "  impinge  upon  the 
head  of  Pig  Jones,  had  watched  the  pursuit  and  cap 
ture,  and  knew  that  the  punishment  was  deserved. 
But  he  had  also  seen  over  his  shoulder  the  twin  sister 
of  the  youngster. 

She  was  the  new  girl  in  the  school,  whose  father 
had  lately  settled  in  the  town  and  built  the  largest 
and  finest  house  that  it  contained.  Unlike  her 
brother,  she  had  made  no  friends  and  few  acquaint 
ances  ;  but,  with  her  steady  dark  eyes  she  had  taken 
the  measure  of  every  boy  and  girl  in  the  school — 
calmly  staring  them  out  of  countenance,  and  finishing 


THE  AGE  OF  STONE  3 

6y  a  close  inspection  of  their  clothing.  Had  it  been 
less  dispassionate,  or  had  she  been  less  of  a  mystery, 
her  manner  would  have  been  resented ;  but,  as  it  was, 
girls  turned  up  their  noses  only  behind  her  back, 
and  the  boys — all  but  Pig  Jones,  in  whose  soul  was 
neither  poetry  nor  reverence — placed  her  upon  a 
pedestal  and  did  her  silent  homage.  She  knew  her 
lessons  without  apparent  study,  asked  no  instructions 
or  favors,  and  never  entered  their  world  except  in 
quest  of  her  brother. 

Dick  had  been  inspected  early.  A  stumble  and 
slip  in  front  of  the  school  gate  had  sprawled  him  at 
full  length  in  a  puddle  and  lavishly  splashed  her  with 
mud.  His  shamefaced  "  Excuse  me  "  was  not  an 
swered,  and  not  even  the  laughter  of  the  boys  so 
harrowed  him  as  the  scrutiny  he  received.  She  showed 
no  annoyance,  but  looked  into  and  through  his  gray 
eyes  as  though  seeking  the  reason  of  a  boy's  falling 
in  the  mud.  Then  she  had  turned  her  back  on  him. 

A  little  exhilarated  by  his  conquest  of  Pig,  he  felt 
less  overpowered  by  her  now  and  looked  frankly  into 
her  face.  There  was  the  faintest  smile  at  the  corners 
of  her  mouth,  but  her  momentary  agitation  had 
passed  and  her  expression  was  as  inscrutable  as  ever. 

"  It  was  very  good  of  you,"  she  said  in  her  musical, 
womanly  voice.  "  I  wish  he  had  a  big  brother." 

"  I  wish  he  had,"  blurted  out  Dick. 

She  smiled  openly  at  this,  and  looked  up  the  street 
at  her  relative,  now  returning  from  a  short  pursuit 
of  Pig. 

"  I  know  your  name — Richard  Halpin — " 

"  Dick,"  he  interrupted. 

"  Dick,  then — and  you  know  mine.  Do  you  like 
Georgie  ?  " 

Dick  did  not.     He  had  stopped  a  "  rock  "  himself 


1  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

a  few  days  before,  and  had  listened  to  Georgie's  out 
spoken  disapproval  of  red  hair;  but  he  answered, 
"  Pretty  well ;  though  he's  not  big  enough  to  travel 
with  a  fellow  of  my  size." 

"But  won't  you  see  that  he  isn't  bullied?"  she 
asked,  earnestly.  "  He  can't  defend  himself  from 
larger  boys ;  he's  sickly  and  delicate." 

Dick  blushed.  "  No,  I  can't  do  that,"  he  answered. 
"  I  can't  fight  a  little,  much  less  lick  the  whole  crowd. 
And  most  of  'em  are  bigger  than  me.  Besides,  your 
brother  picks  all  the  rows  himself." 

"  Then  won't  you  talk  to  him?  He  won't  listen 
to  me.  Will  you  be  his  friend — and  my  friend,  too  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  he  stammered,  with  wide-open  eyes,  "  if 
you'll  let  me ;  and  I'll  look  out  for  him  all  I  can,  but 
he  must  help,  and  keep  out  of  trouble." 

"  Thank  you ;  I  knew  you  would." 

There  was  a  faint  tinge  of  color  in  her  face,  and 
she  stepped  past  him  with  a  slight  inclination  of  her 
head,  as  if  to  bid  him  good  morning.  Then  she 
turned,  smiling  frankly,  and  said :  "  I  was  on  the  way 
to  school.  Are  you  going — Dick?  " 

So  Dick  walked  to  school  with  Mabel  Arthur.  She 
talked  of  the  good  points  of  Georgie — the  mother 
less,  abused,  and  generous  Georgie — who,  knowing 
nothing  of  the  alliance  in  his  behalf,  and  apparently 
unable  to  comprehend  his  sister's  new  state  of  mind, 
convoyed  them  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  street, 
often  looking  over  to  make  irrelevant  remarks.  Dick 
remembered  little  of  what  she  said — only  her  musical 
voice. 

In  an  ecstasy  of  pride  and  embarrassment,  from 
a  keen  appreciation  of  his  outward  defects — his 
freckles,  fiery  hair,  unpolished  shoes,  and  pocket 
bulging  with  a  pair  of  swimming-trunks — Dick 


THE  AGE  OF  STONE  5 

passed  the  staring  groups  in  front  of  the  school, 
nodding  sheepishly  to  those  of  the  boys  who  caught 
his  eye,  and,  parting  from  Mabel  at  the  girls'  door, 
entered  the  building  by  the  other,  through  which  a 
few  studious  boys  were  already  straggling  on  toward 
their  desks.  Under  ordinary  circumstances  he  would 
have  remained  outside  with  the  others  until  the  last 
bell  had  rung,  but  this  noon  he  could  not — he  lacked 
his  usual  sangfroid;  he  was  only  sixteen,  and  had 
publicly  played  the  young  gentleman — escorted  a  girl 
to  school.  Boyhood  resents  this  departure,  and  he 
dreaded  gibes  and  jokes. 

The  schoolhouse  was  a  three-storied  brick  struc 
ture,  standing  at  the  end  of  the  village  street.  Be 
hind  it  and  beyond  was  vacant  land  reaching  to  the 
river,  and  across  this  land,  cutting  a  few  fences  and 
stone  walls,  was  a  trail  used  by  the  boys  to  reach 
a  famous  swimming-hole,  with  diving-rock  and 
spring-board,  a  mile  up  the  stream.  It  was  here  that 
Dick  expected  to  go  when  school  closed;  and  it  was 
because  of  a  recent  edict  of  the  village  fathers  and  a 
cross-grained  constable  that  he  had  brought  his  swim 
ming-trunks. 

His  class  occupied  the  second  floor  of  the  building. 
There  were  a  few  scholars  at  their  desks  as  he  en 
tered,  and  going  to  her  seat  on  the  other  side  of  the 
room  was  Mabel,  who  had  beaten  him  up  the  stairs. 
Her  dark  eyes  lightened  momentarily  as  she  glanced 
at  him,  but  for  that  day  she  gave  him  no  further 
attention.  He  put  the  swimming-trunks  in  his  desk 
and  advanced  to  the  stage  where  the  principal  sat  at 
his  table. 


MASTERS  OF  MEN 


CHAPTER  II 

"TTERE'S  my  money  for  the  team,  Mr.  Clark," 

•1  J.    he  said,  as  he  laid  a  half-dollar  on  the  table. 

"  Very  well,  Richard — thank  you."     He  opened  a 

drawer  and  took  out  two  silver  quarter-dollars  which 

he  pocketed  with  Dick's  half-dollar;  then,  removing 

a  dollar  bill  from  his  note-book,  he  slipped  it  into  an 

envelope  with  other  bills,  and  replaced  the  envelope 

in  the  drawer. 

"  Now  we  have  it  all  in  bills,  Richard." 
"  Yes,  sir,"  answered  Dick,  who  had  eyed  the  money 
with  a  boy's  curiosity. 

Mr.  Clark  smiled  benignly,  and  Dick  went  to  his 
seat.  Through  the  afternoon  he  was  repeatedly  re 
minded  that  he  had  risen  in  popular  estimation. 
Girls — all  but  Mabel — looked  curiously  at  him  across 
aisles  and  over  desks,  boys,  one  after  another,  caught 
his  eye  and  elevated  two  fingers,  a  signal  which  he 
answered  in  kind.  It  meant  swimming  after  school, 
and  he  was  amazed  at  the  sudden  demand  for  his 
company  by  boys  older  and  larger  than  himself — 
who  had  heretofore  preferred  his  room,  but  he  was 
shrewd  enough  to  understand  it. 

Georgie  never  went  swimming,  and  Pig  Jones  did 
not  care  for  Dick's  society  to-day,  but  four  other 
boys — all  of  them  older  and  larger  than  Dick — sur 
rounded  him  outside  the  school.  He  would  have  pre 
ferred,  now,  brazenly  to  join  Mabel  and  walk  home 
with  her,  but  his  agreement  to  go  swimming  was  held 
binding;  so  they  started  toward  the  swimming-hole, 
taking,  for  some  reason  unspoken  among  them,  but 
probably  because  of  their  number,  the  country  road 


THE  AGE  OF  STONE  7 

instead  of  the  trail.  This  road  circled  inland  and 
made  the  journey  a  half-mile  longer. 

With  big  Tom  Allen  on  one  side  of  him,  bigger  Will 
Simpson,  who  had  once  thrashed  the  hotel  porter, 
on  the  other,  and  Tom  Brandes  and  Ned  Brown  be 
hind,  Dick  swaggered  out  the  road.  No  mention  was 
made  of  his  fight  and  the  resultant  acquaintance 
by  the  boys — they  waited  for  him  to  speak  and 
explain;  but  he  was  silent.  A  delicacy  that  was 
partly  pride  impelled  him  to  talk  on  any  other  sub 
ject. 

When  the  boys  had  made  a  half  mile  of  the  journey, 
Dick  remembered  that  he  had  left  his  swimming- 
trunks  in  his  desk.  Visions  of  a  cross-grained  con 
stable,  arrest,  and  friction  at  home  rose  before  him, 
and  he  halted.  "  I'll  go  back  and  get  'em,  boys," 
he  said,  "  and  come  out  cross-cut.  Go  ahead,  and 
go  slow." 

They  protested,  but  in  vain;  he  quitted  them  and 
raced  back.  The  street  in  front  of  the  school  was 
vacant.  The  janitor  had  not  come  to  close  the  build 
ing,  and  he  mounted  the  first  flight  of  stairs  at  a  run ; 
a  little  tired  from  the  exertion,  he  walked  quietly  up 
the  last,  and  opened  the  door  of  the  schoolroom  to 
see  Georgie  locking  the  principal's  desk  and  cram 
ming  an  envelope  into  his  trousers  pocket. 

"  Hello,  Dick,"  he  said,  with  a  red  face,  but  brave 
front. 

"  Hello!    What  are  you  doing  here?  " 

"  What  are  you  doing?  " 

"  After  my  swimming-pants.  What  did  you  take 
out  of  that  drawer?  " 

"  Nothin'." 

"  Yes,  you  did." 

"  No,  I  didn't." 


8  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

"  Yes,  you  did.  Put  it  back.  I  know  the  envelope. 
You  put  that  money  back." 

"  Well— I  won't." 

"  Then  I'll  make  you.  Your  sister  asked  me  to 
look  out  for  you  this  morning,  and  I'm  goin'  to  do  it, 
if  I  have  to  do  it  with  a  club." 

"  Say,  Dick ;  don't  tell  her,  will  you,  if  I  put  you 
on  to  something?  She's  dead  gone  on  you." 

Partly  from  indignation,  partly  from  the  going 
home  of  the  shot,  Dick's  face  grew  red.  But  indig 
nation  dominated.  Advancing  on  Georgie,  he  said: 
"  I  know  soft-soap.  You  put  that  money  back — 
quick,  or  I'll  wring  your  neck." 

In  the  end  Dick  was  compelled  to  choke  him  before 
he  could  get  his  hand  on  the  envelope ;  then  the  other, 
in  a  passion  of  tears,  went  down  the  stairs,  while 
Dick  counted  the  money.  It  was  all  there, — twenty 
dollars, — and  he  tried  the  drawer,  but  it  would  not 
open. 

"  The  little  thief  has  the  key,"  he  muttered ;  "  and 
I've  got  to  get  it  or  give  him  away,  and  she  won't 
thank  me  for  that.  Nice  contract  I've  taken." 

Not  caring  to  lose  the  fun  up  the  river,  and  de 
ciding  that  any  time  before  school  hours  in  the  morn 
ing  would  do  to  return  the  money,  he  put  it  in  his 
pocket,  secured  his  swimming-trunks,  and  left  the 
building,  taking  the  short  cut  across  the  fields  on 
a  run.  » 

There  was  no  one  at  the  swimming-hole  when  he 
arrived,  but  the  diving-rock  and  spring-board  were 
wet,  and  on  the  ground  was  Tom  Allen's  knife,  which 
he  knew  well,  having  once  owned  it.  Satisfied  that 
the  boys  had  come  and  gone,  and  wondering  why 
they  had  not  waited,  he  undressed  and  took  his  swim 
— short  because  he  was  alone  and  because  of  the  load 


THE  AGE  OF  STONE  9 

on  his  mind.  When  he  was  clothed  again,  he  pocketed 
Tom's  knife  and  returned  by  the  country  road,  find 
ing  the  boys  he  had  started  with  on  the  ball-ground 
across  the  street  from  the  school.  Georgie  was  with 
them  now,  looking  on  while  they  listlessly  threw  the 
ball  one  to  another. 

"  Why  didn't  you  wait  for  me,  boys?  "  said  Dick, 
as  he  joined  them.  "  I  hurried  as  fast  as  I  could." 

"  We  didn't  go  swimming,"  answered  Will  Simpson, 
after  an  interval  of  silence,  during  which  the  ball 
ceased  to  travel. 

"  Didn't?  "  said  Dick,  in  astonishment.  "  Why, 
yes,  you  did.  I  found  Tom's  knife  there."  Tom 
had  drawn  near. 

"  Here's  your  knife,  Tom,"  he  continued,  drawing 
it  from  his  pocket.  Tom's  hand  involuntarily  ex 
tended  to  take  it,  then  fell  to  his  side. 

"  'Tisn't  my  knife,"  he  said,  in  a  little  confusion. 
"  I  lost  it  a  long  time  ago — don't  know  who  it  belongs 
to  now." 

"  It  belongs  to  you,  if  you  lost  it,"  answered  Dick. 
"  Take  your  knife.  I  don't  want  it.  What's  the 
matter  with  you  all,  anyhow?  " 

They  had  drawn  away  from  him,  all  but  Tom,  who 
was  examining  the  knife. 

"  Nothin's  the  matter  with  us,"  he  answered,  hand 
ing  the  knife  back,  "  I  don't  want  it.  We  just 
changed  our  minds  and  come  back.  We  didn't  go 
near  the  river." 

"  Well,  all  right,  if  you  didn't ;  but  you  were  eager 
enough  at  the  start." 

Dick  pocketed  the  knife  and  sauntered  over  to 
Georgie,  hoping  to  be  able  to  get  the  key  from  him, 
or  at  least  to  talk  him  into  reason;  but  that  young 
gentleman  trotted  off  with  a  fine  display  of  indiffer- 


10  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

ence,  whooping  occasionally,  like  a  boy  with  a  clear 
conscience.  It  was  unwise  to  pursue  him  openly,  and 
resolving  to  catch  him  after  dark,  Dick  returned  to 
the  boys. 


CHAPTER  III 

fin  HERE  was  something  in  the  air.  The  boys 
A  stopped  talking  on  his  approach,  and  the  ball 
went  lazily  back  and  forth  with  none  of  the  usual 
calls  for  a  "  catch."  Puzzled  by  their  manner  and 
hurt,  at  last  he  left  them,  wondering  if  it  had  any 
connection  with  the  theft  of  the  money. 

"  If  I  can't  get  him  to  give  up  the  key,"  he  mused, 
"  I'll  have  to  tell  on  him.  Who'd  believe  that  I  was 
trying  to  shield  the  little  viper,  supposing  it  was 
missed  and  found  on  me?  He  don't  seem  to  care  a 
hang  whether  he's  found  out  or  not." 

It  was  supper  time  when  he  reached  home;  and, 
first  hiding  the  money  in  the  stable,  he  went  into  the 
house.  At  the  table  his  grim-visaged  uncle,  after 
eying  him  for  a  moment,  said :  "  Well,  sir,  what 
have  you  been  doing  at  school  to-day?  " 

"  Nothing,"  he  answered  shortly,  but  with  a  sink 
ing  heart. 

"  Mr.  Clark  was  here  half  an  hour  ago  looking 
for  you.  He  didn't  tell  me  what  you'd  done,  but 
you've  been  up  to  some  devilment,  I'll  be  bound.  I 
promised  your  fool  mother — " 

Dick  turned  white,  and  jabbed  viciously  at  his 
food. 

"  I've  done  nothing,  sir,"  he  said  slowly,  "  and  the 
time  will  come  when  you'll  find  it  wise  to  stop  calling 
my  mother  a  fool." 


THE  AGE  OF  STONE  11 

"  That  will  do — that  will  do,"  returned  his  uncle,, 
raising  a  monitory  forefinger. 

Dick  subsided.  There  was  no  love  lost  between 
uncle  and  nephew,  though  the  mild  and  patient  old 
aunt  beside  him  had  always  been  kind  to  the  boy. 
Dick  had  been  thrashed  through  boyhood,  and  had 
only  escaped  it  lately  by  the  peculiar  way  in  which 
he  had  taken  the  last,  six  months  before.  He  had 
received  a  harsher  beating  than,  perhaps,  his  uncle 
had  meant  to  give  him.  It  was  the  first  time  that 
he  had  not  begged  off  and  wept  under  punishment,, 
and  this  possibly  prolonged  it.  All  that  evening, 
forbidden  to  leave  the  house,  he  had  sat  with  his 
elbows  on  his  knees,  answering  sullenly  when  spoken 
to,  and  staring  fixedly  at  his  uncle  with  eyes  that 
flamed  green.  He  was  ordered  about,  from  one  chair 
to  another,  by  the  uneasy  man,  and  at  last  sent  to 
bed,  where  the  gentle  old  aunt  followed  and  *  cried 
over  him.  Then  it  was  that  the  green  left  his  eyes, 
and  the  tiger-cub  became  a  boy  again,  sobbing  con 
vulsively  in  his  aunt's  arms. 

The  next  evening  his  uncle  listened  to  the  follow 
ing  dispassionate  words  from  the  now  normal  Dick: 
"  I've  seen  mother's  lawyer.  If  you  lay  the  weight 
of  your  finger  on  me  again,  he  will  apply  to  the 
courts  for  a  new  guardian."  And  there  was  that 
in  the  boy's  face  which  impressed  the  uncle.  He 
had  often  threatened  him  since  then,  but  never  at 
tempted  punishment. 

Dick  had  a  very  slight  remembrance  of  his  mother, 
but  none  whatever  of  his  father — a  naval  officer  lost 
at  sea.  He  was  an  infant  in  arms  when  this  had 
happened,  and  just  able  to  walk  when  his  mother 
had  brought  him  to  her  elder  brother's  house — the 
house  that  she  had  left,  against  his  wish,  to  marry 


12  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

the  impecunious  man  who  had  won  her.  And  here 
she  had  wept  away  her  beauty,  then  her  life.  And 
there  were  some  that  followed  her  to  the  grave  who 
averred  that  she  had  died  in  self-defense — to  escape 
the  never-ending  recapitulation  of  her  fault — the 
ceaseless,  monotonous  variations  of  "  I  told  you  so  " 
dealt  to  her  by  her  brother.  And  later,  on  occasions 
when  the  boy,  screaming  under  the  lash,  could  be 
heard  a  block  away  in  all  directions  from  his  uncle's 
barn,  these  neighbors  indignantly  declared  that  he 
was  being  slowly  killed  for  the  money  left  to  him 
in  trust.  But  these  remarks,  born  solely  of  sym 
pathy,  had  little  credence  or  circulation.  Though 
as  unpleasant  and  parsimonious  a  character  as  the 
village  contained,  the  uncle  bore  a  well-proven  reputa 
tion  for  integrity  which  stood  him  in  lieu  of  kindlier 
elements  of  mind.  Family  pride,  no  doubt,  contrib 
uted  largely  to  this  fundamental  honesty,  as  it  cer 
tainly  did  to  his  resentment  at  his  sister's  marriage 
against  his  wishes,  and  to  his  later  desire  that  her  son 
should  be  properly  reared.  He  was  prouder  of  his 
name  than  of  his  wealth — prouder  still  of  himself; 
and  his  townsmen,  knowing  this  and  disliking  him 
personally,  had  elected  him  town  treasurer  year  after 
year,  and  would  unhesitatingly  have  accepted  his 
mere  word  of  promise  in  any  money  transaction. 

When  Dick  had  finished  supper  he  put  on  his  hat 
and  left  the  house.  It  was  late  in  the  evening  when 
he  found  Georgie  and  ran  him  down  as  a  wolf  runs 
a  deer.  There  was  argument  and  persuasion  on  his 
side,  with  a  picture  of  Mabel's  grief  and  shame  if 
the  theft  was  known — and  there  was  jeering  and  de 
fiance  from  Georgie ;  then  there  was  highway  robbery 
and  separation,  and  Dick,  with  a  key  in  his  pocket 
and  a  bump  on  his  head  from  the  impact  of  a  "  rock  " 


THE  AGE  OF  STONE  13 

— a  supply  of  which  Georgie  seemed  to  carry  in  his 
pocket, — went  home  to  bed. 

In  the  morning  he  was  up  early  and  off  to  school 
with  the  money  in  his  pocket,  thankful,  as  he  climbed 
the  stairs,  that  the  janitor  was  busy  on  the  ground 
floor;  and  that  there  was  still  fifteen  minutes  before 
the  first  bell  would  ring,  giving  him  plenty  of  time. 
There  was  no  one  in  the  room  as  he  entered;  he 
approached  the  principal's  table,  inserted  the  key, 
and  found  that  it  worked  unevenly,  proving  that  it 
did  not  belong  to  the  lock ;  but  at  last  it  turned.  He 
opened  the  drawer,  placed  the  money  in  the  corner 
where  the  principal  had  lodged  it,  shut  and  locked 
the  drawer  and  turned — to  look  into  the  grave  face  of 
Mr.  Clark,  who  was  coming  out  of  the  classroom 
back  of  the  stage. 

"  So,"  he  said,  slowly  and  sadly,  "  you  became 
frightened  when  you  heard  that  I  called,  and  decided 
to  put  it  back.  I  expected  you.  Did  you  return  it 
all?  " 

"  It's  all  there,"  answered  Dick,  weakly ;  then  real 
izing  his  position,  he  went  on  hotly,  "  I'm  no  thief — I 
didn't  steal  that  money." 

"  Take  your  seat,  sir." 

Dick  obeyed,  and  Mr.  Clark  opened  the  drawer 
with  his  own  key  and  counted  the  bills.  Then  seating 
himself  he  began  writing,  and  Dick,  wildly  trying  to 
formulate  his  defense,  knew,  with  the  prescience  of 
the  condemned,  that  the  writing  was  for  his  uncle's 
eyes.  And  how  could  he  clear  himself?  It  seemed 
that  nothing  but  a  direct  accusation  of  Georgie  and 
a  truthful  statement  of  fact  would  answer  now;  yet 
he  hesitated  to  make  public  his  motive — to  tell  of  his 
new  friendship  and  promise  to  a  girl — such  a  ridicu 
lous  promise,  too.  But  when  Mabel  came  in  and 


14  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

smiled  as  she  passed  to  her  seat,  his  wavering  reso 
lution  was  strengthened.  He  would  clear  himself, 
somehow,  but  he  would  not  stab  her  through  the 
brother  she  loved. 

CHAPTER  IV 

THE  last  bell  rang,  the  school  assembled,  and 
after  the  opening  exercises  and  subsequent  buz 
zing  and  shuffling  of  books,  Mr.  Clark  tapped  his  bell 
— louder  than  usual — and  the  hubbub  ceased.  The 
principal  was  a  tall,  spare  man,  and  his  kindly  face 
was  unusually  stern. 

"  Before  we  open  school  this  morning,"  he  began  in 
his  slow,  steady  voice,  "  we  will  dispose  of  a  matter 
that  demands  immediate  attention.  You  all  know 
about  the  fund  contributed  by  the  boys  for  the 
eleven's  new  suits.  It  is  a  matter  in  no  way  con 
nected  with  your  studies ;  but  the  theft  of  that  money 
has  a  vital  connection  with  the  school,  and  I  ani  com 
pelled  to  take  action.  We  have  a  thief  among  us. 
The  last  instalment  of  the  fund  was  contributed  yes 
terday  noon  by  Richard  Halpin — Richard  Halpin, 
come  forward." 

White  in  the  face,  Dick  arose  and  advanced  to 
the  front. 

"  Richard  Halpin,"  continued  the  principal ;  "  you 
saw  where  I  placed  the  money  yesterday  noon.  After 
school  you  returned,  unlocked  the  drawer  with  a  key 
of  your  own,  left  the  building,  and  ran  through  the 
back  gate  and  across  the  vacant  lots.  I  saw  you 
from  the  window  of  my  house  down  the  street.  That 
afternoon  I  visited  the  school  and  noted  the  absence 
of  the  money.  I  called  at  your  home  and  waited  for 
you  until  nearly  supper-time,  hoping  to  induce  you 


THE  AGE  OF  STONE  15 

to  make  amends  by  confessing  and  by  returning  the 
money  then ;  as  you  did  not  come,  I  went  home.  How 
ever,  my  visit  must  have  become  known  to  you,  and 
you  were  frightened.  I  came  to  school  early  this 
morning  and  saw  you  return  the  money  to  the  drawer. 
Had  you  admitted  your  guilt,  I  should  have  talked  it 
over  with  you,  but  you  brazenly  denied  it." 

"  I  deny  it  again,"  declared  Dick,  bravely ;  "  you 
saw  me  running  because  I  wanted  to  catch  up  with 
the  boys,  and  I  went  cross-lots,  too ;  I  had  come  back 
for  my  swimming-trunks." 

"You  were  going  in  swimming  with  other  boys? 
What  boys  ?  " 

"  Some  of  the  big  fellows — we  were  going  up  to 
the  swimming-hole." 

"  Name  the  boys  you  went  in  swimming  with." 
The  principal  reached  for  paper  and  pencil. 

"  I  didn't  go  in  with  them.  They  didn't  wait.  I 
went  in  alone.  They  said  afterward  that  they  didn't 
go  in." 

"  They  said  so?  Do  you  know  this?  Did  you  see 
any  boys  at  all,  up  there?  " 

Dick  could  not  understand  how  the  whereabouts  of 
himself  or  the  boys  bore  on  the  case,  but  he  had  no 
reason  to  tell  anything  but  truth  about  the  trip  up 
the  river,  so  he  answered : — 

"  Didn't  see  anybody  till  I  got  back,  but  I  found 
Tom  Allen's  knife,  and  the  place  was  all  wet ;  so  some 
one  was  there." 

"  Tom  Allen,"  repeated  the  teacher,  writing  the 
name  down.  "  Who  else  was  in  the  party  which 
started?  " 

"  Will  Simpson,  Tom  Brandes — " 

The  door  burst  open,  and  into  the  room  stormed 
a  big  man  with  a  whip  in  his  hand  and  mud  on  his 


16  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

boots.  There  was  anger  in  his  sunburned  face,  and 
around  him  was  the  atmosphere  of  horses  and  cattle. 

"Got  'em  yet,  Mr.  Clark— this  one  of  them?" 
He  advanced  on  Dick,  who  retreated  into  an  aisle, 
realizing  dimly  as  he  went  that  trouble  was  brewing 
for  others  as  well  as  himself. 

"  No,  no,  Mr.  Bronson,"  said  the  principal ;  "  be 
seated,  please.  This  is  not  one  of  the  boys  you  want, 
but  he  has  been  a  valuable  witness.  Take  a  chair, 
sir,  until  I  dispose  of  this  boy's  case;  then  we  will 
investigate.  Were  there  any  others  ?  "  he  said  to 
Dick.  "  Name  the  rest  with  whom  you  started  up 
the  river.  Come  forward  here." 

Dick  stepped  out  of  the  aisle,  watching  the  big1 
farmer  seat  himself,  and  said  quietly :  "  I  don't  know 
what's  happened,  Mr.  Clark,  but  I'm  not  going  to 
say  any  more  about  the  crowd.  If  they've  done  any 
thing,  it's  not  my  business  to  give  'em  away." 

"  You  will  not  name  the  rest  of  the  boys  ?  " 

"  No,  sir." 

"  Very  well.  Go  to  your  seat,  pack  up  your  books, 
and  leave  the  school.  You  are  expelled,  pending  the 
action  of  the  board,  which  will  probably  confirm  your 
expulsion." 

"  Is  this  all,  sir,"  asked  Dick,  uneasily.  "  Have 
I  no  chance  to  say  anything?  " 

"  What  do  you  wish  to  say?  " 

"  I  say  I  did  not  take  that  money." 

"  Come.  To  convince  you  of  the  uselessness  of  fur 
ther  denial,  I  will  confront  you  with  the  boy  who  saw 
you  take  the  money,  and  who  reported  the  theft  t% 
me.  George  Arthur,  step  forward," 

This  young  man  left  his  seat  and  approachedj 
while  Dick  watched  in  amazement.  George  Arthur 
was  a  peculiarly  handsome  boy — curly-haired  and 


THE  AGE  OF  STONE  17 

bright-eyed.  Halting  in  front  of  the  school,  he  half 
turned,  and  with  his  hands  down  his  pockets  and  legs 
wide  apart,  pursed  his  lips  into  an  expression  of 
fifteen-year-old  virtue. 

"  Tell  the  school  the  story  you  told  me  at  my 
house." 

"  I  came  back,"  said  the  boy,  in  a  monotone,  facing 
the  scholars,  "  to  get  my  knife  which  I  left  in  the 
g'ography  class,  and  I  saw  Dick  Halpin  from  the 
recitation  room.  He  took  the  money,  and  I  came 
out  and  told  him  I'd  tell  on  him,  and  he  wanted  me 
to  go  halves  and  keep  still,  but  I  wouldn't  and  ran 
out,  and  he  followed,  telling  me  to  wait  and  take  half, 
but  I  said  I  wasn't  a  thief  and  I  went  over  to  Mr. 
Clark's  house  and  told  him." 

"  You  lie,"  yelled  Dick. 

"  Silence,"  thundered  the  principal ;  but  Dick  was 
past  taking  orders.  It  was  a  very  red  boy  in  red 
knickerbockers  whom  he  was  pursuing  down  aisles  and 
over  red  desks  and  red  boys  and  girls,  and  he  wanted 
to  catch  him.  A  dark-eyed  girl  screamed,  and  others 
followed  suit.  Scholars  left  their  seats,  some  to  get 
out  of  Dick's  way,  others — the  larger  boys — to  head 
him  off.  Georgie  was  agile  and  cleared  desks  easily ; 
close  after  came  the  enraged  Dick,  and  behind, 
through  the  aisles,  a  conglomerate  surging  mob 
headed  by  the  principal.  But  at  last  Dick  was 
tripped,  collared  by  Mr.  Clark,  and  marched  to  his 
seat. 

"  Take  your  books,  sir,  and  go,"  panted  the  angry 
principal. 

"  I  won't  till  I've  had  my  say,"  cried  Dick,  strug 
gling.  "  Let  go  of  me.  He  stole  that  money  him 
self — I  saw  him.  He  tells  the  very  story  I  could 
have  told  if  I  was  a  sneak.  He's  the  thief." 


18  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

Chivalry  went  to  the  winds.  This  was  beyond  his 
limitations,  and  all  the  promises  to  all  the  sisters  in 
the  world  could  not  seal  his  lips ;  he  was  too  insanely 
angry.  Then,  over  in  the  front  rank  of  the  girls, 
lie  saw  Mabel,  with  her  arms  about  her  brother, 
looking  at  him  with  horror  in  her  face.  The  shock 
-did  him  good. 

"  Let  me  get  out,  Mr.  Clark.  I'll  go.  Let  me 
-get  my  books,"  he  said,  quietly. 

"  Go,"  said  the  principal,  sternly,  "  and  if  you 
have  a  case,  take  it  to  the  school  board." 

He  released  him,  and  Dick  packed  his  books,  while 
the  agitated  scholars  slowly  resumed  their  seats,  those 
~who  sat  near  Dick  waiting  until  he  had  marched  up 
the  aisle  and  out  of  the  door. 

Mr.  Clark  resumed  his  position  in  front  of  the 
school.  Taking  up  the  list  of  names  from  his  table, 
he  read  off,  in  a  voice  which  boded  ill  for  hesitaters 
and  halters,  the  names  given  him  by  Dick.  "  Come 
forward,  all  of  you,"  he  said.  The  three  boys  ranged 
themselves  before  him. 

"  You  have  seen,  young  gentlemen,"  began  Mr. 
Clark,  as  he  eyed  them  sternly,  "  the  futility  of  deny 
ing  a  guilty  action.  Let  me  advise  you.  Tell  the 
truth  manfully;  own  up  to  what  you  have  done. 
Yesterday  afternoon  Mr.  Bronson  saw  you  going 
down  over  his  land  to  your  swimming-place.  He 
called  on  me  last  evening  and  asked  me  to  identify 
jmi,  for,  while  there,  you  caught  his  yearling  colt, 
and  tied  a  bush  to  his  tail.  Then  you  laughed  and 
shouted  while  the  colt  ran  himself  to  death.  A 
prompt  admission  will  no  doubt  save  you  from  arrest 
and  leave  the  matter  to  be  settled  by  your  parents. 
I  speak  as  your  friend  and  to  spare  my  school  the 


THE  AGE  OF  STONE  19 

disgrace.  Do  you  admit  this  ?  And  will  you  give  the 
names  of  the  others  ?  " 

There  was  admission  in  their  faces.  Not  expecting 
the  sudden  turn  of  events,  they  had  arranged  no  con 
certed  denial. 

"  We've  got  to  admit  it,  I  suppose,  sir,"  said  Will 
Simpson  at  last,  "  but  we're  not  bound  to  give  others 
away.  At  least  I  won't." 

"  That  will  do ;  go  to  your  seats.  This  must  be 
settled  out  of  school."  The  principal  added  more 
writing  to  the  list  and  turned  to  the  farmer.  "  Mr. 
Bronson,"  said  he,  "  here  are  the  names  of  these 
three,  and  the  addresses  of  their  parents." 

The  farmer  took  the  list,  nodded  his  thanks,  and 
left  the  building. 

Then  school  opened  for  the  day,  but  little  progress 
was  made  in  studies. 

CHAPTER  V 

AFTER  school  that  noon  four  boys,  with  gloom, 
in  their  souls,  mustered  under  a  tree  on  the  ball- 
ground.  Not  one  cared  to  go  home  to  a  dinner 
which  might  be  seasoned  with  parental  rebuke ;  so  they 
lounged  on  the  grass,  kicking  their  heels,  nibbling 
grass-bulbs,  and  occasionally  commenting  on  the  hope 
less  outlook. 

As  they  lay  there,  Pig  Jones  joined  them  and 
offered  sympathy  and  advice ;  then  Dick  Halpin  came 
climbing  over  the  fence  at  the  other  side  of  the  field. 
Swinging  his  books  by  the  strap,  he  slowly  ap 
proached  the  group  under  the  tree.  His  lip  was 
swollen  and  there  was  trouble  in  his  face ;  but  he  was 
calm  and  serious  as  he  ran  his  eye  over  the  party. 

"  I  don't  know  what's  up,  boys,"  he  began ;  "  you 


20  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

didn't  tell  me  anything,  but  if  I'd  even  guessed  that 
anything  had  happened  I  wouldn't  have  told.  What 
is  it?  " 

"  We  killed  a  colt,"  answered  Will,  as  he  rolled 
over  to  face  him.  "  We  didn't  mean  to — he  got  away 
from  us.  But  it  wouldn't  have  been  found  out  if  you 
hadn't  had  so  much  to  say." 

"  And  I  wouldn't  have  had  a  word  to  say  if  you'd 
put  me  on  to  it.  But  you  didn't,  and  I  didn't  know. 
I  was  trying  to  clear  myself.  That's  why  I  told 
where  I  was  going.  I  wouldn't  give  any  one  away." 

"  Yes,  you  would,"  sneered  Pig  Jones.  "  Even  if 
you  were  one  o'  the  gang  you'd  ha'  told  on  the  rest. 
You  proved  that  to-day — lyin'  'bout  the  money  you 
stole." 

"  I  tell  you  I  wouldn't,"  answered  Dick,  angrily ; 
"  and  the  man  who  says  I  stole  that  money  is  a 
liar." 

This  was  strong  language,  and  too  defiant  alto 
gether  from  a  boy  of  Dick's  size. 

"  I  say  you  stole  it,"  returned  Pig. 

"  Then  you're  a  liar." 

"  I  say  you  stole  it,"  said  Tom  Brandes — larger 
than  Pig;  Ned  Brown  repeated  it,  and  Dick,  whose 
face  had  tightened,  answered,  "  You  are  a  pack  of 
liars,  and  I  can  back  it  up."  He  dropped  his  books 
and  flung  off  his  coat;  then  Will  Simpson,  who  had 
not  yet  joined  the  allied  powers,  arose  in  his  dignity. 

"  What?  "  said  he.    "  Am  I  a  liar?  " 

"  If  you  say  I  stole  that  money,  you're  a  liar," 
stormed  Dick. 

"  I  say  you  stole  it." 

"  Then  you're  a  liar." 

There  was  a  flourish  and  a  tangle  of  fists,  and  Dick 
went  down.  When  he  arose,  his  right  eye  was  closing. 


THE  AGE  OF  STONE  21 

"  Want  any  more  ?  "  asked  his  big  antagonist. 
Dick's  reply  was  a  tiger-like  pounce.  Then  they 
clinched;  but  it  was  disastrous  for  Dick.  He  was 
punched,  choked,  squeezed,  and  at  last  lifted  bodily 
and  launched  headlong,  falling  heavily.  He  was  no 
match  for  the  other,  who  was  unscathed  in  the  shuffle, 
and  before  he  arose  he  was  kicked  by  Pig,  who  yelled, 
"  Give  it  to  him,  fellers — give  it  to  the  thief — give  it 
to  the  tattle-tale."  His  foot  was  caught  at  the  second 
kick  by  the  prostrate  boy,  and  he  was  thrown ;  but 
before  Dick  could  do  more  than  rise  to  his  feet,  Tom 
Allen  asked  his  opinion  of  his  veracity,  and  the  an 
swer  brought  another  knock-down  from  Tom.  Then, 
to  hurry  through  a  painful  duty,  they  all  surrounded 
him,  kicking  and  pounding. 

"That'll  do,  now,  that'll  do,"  said  Will;  "we've 
killed  a  colt,  and  that's  enough." 

They  walked  away.  Dick  arose  to  a  sitting  posture 
and  looked  after  them ;  but  there  was  no  green  flame 
in  his  half-closed  eyes ;  neither  had  he  seen  red  during 
the  struggle.  These  might  come  later.  He  had 
thought,  at  the  last,  that  he  was  fighting  for  his  life, 
and  he  had  even  entered  the  fracas  with  doubt  that 
was  only  dominated  by  his  indignation  and  will.  He 
was  now  thoroughly  subdued,  and  only  in  the  com 
plete  absence  of  all  fear  will  come  the  destructive  rage 
which  turns  all  things  red. 

It  is  hardly  probable  that  Pig's  sympathy  and 
advice,  or  his  initiative  in  the  prelude  of  insult,  had 
induced  the  other  four  to  this  extremity  of  action; 
they  were  young  and  close  to  Nature,  and  the  species 
to  which  they  belonged  but  a  few  thousands  years 
away  from  the  Age  of  Stone,  when  marriage  was  by 
capture,  and  the  better  warrior  was  the  better  wooer, 
admired  by  his  fellows  when  successful,  clubbed  to 


22  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

death  before  his  scornful  wife's  eyes  when  wounded 
or  ill.  Dick  Halpin,  by  winning  and  then  losing — 
for  some  had  noted  her  look  of  horror — the  favor  of 
the  school  beauty,  had  called  it  into  force — this  sec 
ond  law  of  Nature ;  though  perhaps  not  a  boy  among 
them  would  admit,  even  to  himself,  that  Mabel  Arthur 
was  in  any  way  connected  with  the  animus  of  their 
assault.  But  Pig's  position  was  definite — he  had 
"  squared  up." 

When  they  were  out  of  sight,  Dick  picked  up  his 
books  and  painfully  made  his  way  to  the  river-bank 
behind  the  schoolhouse.  There  he  stanched  the 
blood  from  his  nose  and  bathed  his  head,  which  ached 
and  throbbed  from  his  fury  of  the  morning  and  from 
the  hard  knocks  it  had  received.  Then  he  found  a 
shady  spot  on  the  bank,  and,  watching  the  stream 
and  farm-land  beyond,  tried  to  reduce  his  chaotic 
thoughts  to  order. 

CHAPTER  VI 

"T  SEE  my  finish,"  he  mused.  "I'm  a  thief  in 
A  this  town,  and  I'm  kicked  out  of  school — can't 
even  get  the  last  exam. ;  hammered,  too,  till  I  can't 
see,  just  for  nothing.  What  ails  them  all?  I  did 
them  no  harm.  They'd  have  been  found  out  in  time. 
What'll  the  old  man  do?  Won't  believe  me  any 
more  than  Clark  did.  The  young  devil!  Who'd 
think  he  had  the  nerve?  Oh,  I'll  fix  him  for  this. 
But  that  won't  help — I  can't  clear  myself  that  way. 
I'm  a  thief — a  proven  thief — and  nothing'll  disprove 
it  but  his  confession.  And  he  won't  confess — not 
much.  I  could  choke  it  out  of  him,  but  it  wouldn't 
go.  He'd  say  it  was  compulsion.  Wonder  if  it  would 
do  any  good  to  tell  her  straight — just  how  it  was. 


THE  AGE  OF  STONE  23 

She  might  get  it  out  of  him;  but  she  won't,  and  if 
she  believed  me  it  would  only  make  her  feel  bad — 
and  she  won't  believe  me,  anyhow.  Might  as  well  go 
home — no,  I  can't — and  won't." 

He  waited  until  the  second  bell  had  rung — for  he 
did  not  care  to  meet  the  scholars — feeling,  as  the 
clang  of  the  last  stroke  dwindled  to  silence,  the  curi 
ous,  nervous  sense  of  liberty  and  loneliness  which 
comes  to  emancipated  schoolboys.  Then,  when  sure 
that  all  were  within  the  building,  he  picked  up  his 
books  and  crossed  the  lots  to  the  street.  Beyond  the 
school  he  met  Mr.  Bronson,  the  farmer  whose  colt 
had  been  killed,  driving  out  in  his  buckboard.  The 
farmer  scrutinized  his  face,  stopped  his  horse,  and 
beckoned.  Dick  approached. 

"  You  the  boy  that  got  expelled  this  mornin'?  " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  What  ails  your  face?  " 

"  Got  done  up  by  the  boys." 

"What  boys?" 

"The  fellows  that  killed  your  colt.  They  laid 
me  out  for  telling  their  names  before  I  knew  any 
thing  was  up." 

"  All  pile  on  to  you  ?  " 

"  All  that  could — yes ;  I  guess  they  all  got  in  a 
kick  or  two." 

"  The  young  devils !  I'll  fix  'em,  though.  Now, 
I  want  the  names  of  all  that  crowd.  You  didn't  tell 
all  of  them.  Who  were  the  others  ?  " 

"  You  mustn't  ask  me,  sir.  I  don't  feel  very  bad 
now  about  what  I  said ;  but  I've  no  quarrel  with  them 
about  that  matter;  and  I  don't  believe  in  tattling, 
anyhow." 

"  Well,  well,  maybe  that's  right ;  but  I'll  find  out, 
just  the  same.  But  say,  my  boy,  tell  me  squarely. 


21  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

Did  you  take  the  teacher's  money?  I  saw  your 
tantrums  at  school,  and  it  didn't  look  like  make- 
believe." 

"  I  did  not  take  it — I  saw  it  taken,  and  tried  to 
make  the  little  cuss  put  it  back.  I  had  to  take  it 
away  from  him,  but  I  didn't  get  the  key  until  late 
that  night ;  so  I  had  to  wait  till  morning  before  I 
could  return  it.  Then  I  was  caught  at  it,  and  ac 
cused  by  the  very  one  I  was  trying  to  shield."  He 
spoke  earnestly;  he  wanted  some  one  to  believe  him. 

"But  what  did  you  do  it  for?  Why  didn't  you 
go  and  tell  Mr.  Clark?  " 

"  I'm  not  that  kind ;  I  don't  tell  you  the  names 
you  want." 

"  Different  thing.  Malicious  mischief  and  cruelty 
to  dumb  brutes  is  bad  enough,  but  stealing  is  low 
down.  A  thief  deserves  no  such  consideration." 

"  I  promised — I  told  one  of  his  family  I'd  look 
out  for  him  a  little,  and  take  care  of  him." 

"Sister?" 

Dick's  face  showed  red  between  the  bruises,  and 
the  farmer  grinned. 

"  So,  so,"  he  said ;  "  well,  you're  pretty  young  for 
that.  I  reckon  you'll  pull  through  all  right.  So 
long." 

Dick  watched  the  broad  back  of  the  farmer  grow 
small  in  the  distance,  then  brought  his  thoughts  back 
to  himself  and  his  future.  Here  was  the  first  prac 
tical  sympathy  which  he  had  received — which  had 
crystallized  into :  "  You'll  pull  through  all  right. 
So  long." 

Would  he  pull  through  all  right?  The  retreating 
broad  back  of  the  farmer  told  him  plainly  that  if  he 
did,  it  would  be  because  of  his  own  effort  alone. 
In  a  few  hours  he  would  be  hungry,  and  when  he 


THE  AGE  OF  STONE  25 

ate  it  would  be  of  food  furnished  by  a  man  who  had 
less  sympathy  for  him  than  had  the  farmer.  But 
this  man  held  in  trust  money  which  would  be  his  when 
he  was  of  age — how  much,  he  did  not  know;  he  had 
never  inquired.  But  he  would  find  out ;  and  he  would 
ask  the  lawyer's  advice. 

He  walked  briskly  down  the  streets  to  the  business 
section  of  the  town  and  opened  the  office  door  of  the 
lawyer  who  had  settled  his  mother's  estate.  A 
smirking  clerk  informed  him  that  the  lawyer  was  out 
of  town  on  business  which  would  keep  him  away  for  a 
month.  With  gloomy  face  he  sauntered  up  the  streets 
toward  the  school,  and,  while  passing  a  vacant  lot, 
whirled  his  school-books  high  in  the  air  over  the  fence. 
With  them  went  his  past,  and  the  hopes,  plans, 
friendships,  and  ambitions  which  pertained  to  it.  He 
was  no  longer  a  schoolboy,  satisfied  with  praise  and 
a  favorable  monthly  report.  The  world  was  before 
him  and  against  him. 

Yet  the  habit  of  years  guided  his  wandering  steps 
to  the  vicinity  of  the  school  from  whose  thrall  he 
had  escaped;  and  as  he  hung  over  a  fence  adjoining 
that  of  the  school  grounds,  the  closing  bell  sounded 
from  the  cupola.  The  scholars  would  be  out  in  five 
minutes. 

Acting  on  a  sudden  resolve  he  placed  himself  near 
the  girls'  entrance,  where  he  knew  that  every  scholar 
in  the  three  departments — except  possibly  ball 
players  or  swimmers — must  pass  him;  and  he  was 
savagely  pleased  at  the  results.  He  was  a  peculiarly 
ugly  boy  just  then — scarred,  disfigured,  and  scowl 
ing — and  in  a  very  ugly  mood.  Also,  he  held  in  his 
hand  an  ugly,  sharp-edged  fence-picket  for  the  benefit 
of  any  boy  who  might  feel  moved  to  repeat  or  dupli 
cate  the  punishment  of  the  ball-ground. 


26  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

The  news  of  his  disgrace  had  gone  through  the 
three  departments  at  recess  and  at  noon.  Every  one 
in  the  school  had  known  Dick  Halpin,  but  none  knew 
him  now.  Girls,  big  and  little,  shied  by  him  with 
wide-open,  curious  eyes,  as  though  they  were  looking 
at  some  strange  creature  which  might  bite.  Small 
boys  acted  similarly,  and  Georgie  made  a  detour 
across  the  street,  but  said  nothing.  The  larger  boys 
glanced  unconcernedly  at  him,  and  passed  dignifiedly 
by,  Pig  Jones  only  giving  sign  of  recognition — 
grimacing  first,  then  dodging  a  sweeping  blow  of  the 
fence-picket.  But  it  was  Mabel  whom  Dick  was  wait 
ing  to  test,  and  down  the  street  the  larger  boys 
stopped  and  watched,  equally  interested.  She  came 
along  toward  the  last,  and  when  she  hurried  by  with 
the  old  swift,  piercing  glance  at  his  face,  and  turning 
of  her  eyes  ahead,  the  heart  of  the  boy  tightened,  and 
it  seemed  to  him  that  the  sky  was  suddenly  darker, 
and  the  air  colder.  He  laughed,  but  it  was  not  a 
pleasant  laugh — not  the  mirth  of  a  healthy-minded 
boy. 

A  girl  a  year  or  so  younger  than  Dick  came  flying 
back  from  the  crowd  down  the  street,  her  hair  stream 
ing  behind  and  her  blue  eyes  glowing  with  indignation 
and  sympathy. 

"  Oh,  Dicky,"  she  said,  as  she  placed  her  hands 
on  his  shoulders  and  looked  into  his  face.  "  I  want 
to  tell  you — I  don't  believe  it — my  sister  pulled  me 
along,  and  wouldn't  let  me  speak  to  you.  I  just  hate 
that  George  Arthur;  I  know  you  didn't  steal  it, 
Dicky.  What  they  been  doing  to  you?  " 

A  lump  came  in  his  throat  and  tears  to  his  eyes. 
"  No,  Bessie,"  he  said,  thickly,  "  I  didn't ;  I  told  the 
truth,  and  I  had  a  fight  over  the  other  thing." 

A    teacher    had    come    between    them.      "  Come, 


THE  AGE  OF  STONE  27 

Bessie,  go  home."  And  with  a  good-night  to  Dick 
she  went  on. 

He  shouldered  his  picket  and  crossed  the  street  to 
the  ball-ground,  where  in  three  minutes  he  was  sob 
bing  his  heart  out  to  the  grass;  but  it  was  not  his 
trouble  that  moved  him,  it  was  Bessie's  sympathy  and 
faith. 

Dick's  interview  with  his  uncle  at  supper-time, 
though  stormy  and  painful,  was  the  least  of  that 
day's  troubles.  It  need  not  be  detailed.  With  sneer 
ing  and  scornful  upbraiding  the  narrow-minded  old 
man  flourished  Mr.  Clark's  note  and  overruled  Dick's 
sullen  and  defiant  denial.  Through  it  all  Aunt  Mollie 
shed  tears,  but  attempted  no  vain  mediation.  There 
could  be  but  one  ending.  An  intimation  from  the 
angry  uncle  to  the  effect  that  were  Dick  not  his  sis 
ter's  child  he  would  turn  him  out  was  promptly  met 
by  Dick's  declaration  that  he  would  save  him  that 
trouble — he  would  go  when  he  had  finished  his  supper, 
which,  with  the  clothes  on  his  back,  he  considered 
himself  entitled  to. 

So,  with  a  kiss  and  good-by  for  his  agitated  aunt, 
and  an  unboyish  curse  for  his  uncle,  Dick  Halpin, 
with  two  black  eyes  and  a  swollen  nose,  and  with  noth 
ing  in  his  pockets  but  a  jack-knife  and  a  key — 
neither  of  which  belonged  to  him — went  out  into  the 
gloom  of  the  evening  to  face  the  world. 


CHAPTER  VII 

WITH   his   hands    in   his    pockets    he   traBged 
through  the  quiet  streets   and  out  into  the 
country  road,  thinking  deeply.     His  headache  was 
gone,  and  his  sore  spots,  though  still  alive,  not  pain- 


28  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

ful  enough  to  prevent  a  brisk  walk,  the  most  con 
ducive  to  thought  in  some  temperaments,  and  he 
reviewed  the  happenings  of  the  last  two  days.  So 
rapidly  had  events  crowded  one  another  that  it 
seemed  weeks  back  when  he  had  walked  to  school  with 
Mabel  Arthur — envied  of  all  boys.  And  viewed  in 
the  light  of  these  events,  she  was  more  than  ever  now 
like  a  creature  of  some  higher  species,  or  inhabitant 
of  some  distant  planet,  who,  without  responsibility, 
had  entered  his  life,  done  him  harm,  and  left  it.  But 
she  was  still  the  central  figure  of  his  thoughts,  taking 
precedence  over  the  boys  who  had  ill-treated  him,  the 
teacher  who  had  misjudged  him,  the  scholars  who  had 
snubbed  him,  and  even  Bessie  and  his  Aunt  Mollie — 
his  only  friends  now.  The  first  was  only  a  "  young 
*un  "  whose  good  will  he  had  lately  won  by  a  timely 
rescue  of  her  kitten,  and  the  second  was  so  associated 
with  and  overshadowed  by  the  disagreeable  person 
ality  of  his  uncle  that  she  had  failed,  with  her  passive 
negative  temperament,  of  making  any  deep  or  lasting 
impression  on  his  mind.  As  for  his  uncle,  he  had 
ceased  almost  to  think  of  him,  and  hoped  soon  to 
forget  him. 

He  would  ask  Mr.  Bronson  for  work,  study  in 
the  evening,  finish  the  senior  course,  and  go  to  New 
York,  where  he  would  get  a  position  in  a  store,  or 
office,  and  study  law,  or  medicine,  thus  getting  a 
better  education  than  the  other  boys  could  get  in  the 
Jhigh  school.  And  when  he  was  a  prosperous  man, 
with  good  clothes  and  a  silk  hat,  and  a  gold  watch, 
he  would  come  back  to  the  village  and  put  up  at  the 
hotel.  And  the  only  people  in  the  whole  town  whom 
he  would  recognize  would  be  Aunt  Mollie  and  Bessie. 
He  would  kick  George  Arthur  out  of  his  way  if  he 
came  in  front  of  him.  He  would  take  Aunt  Mollie 


THE  AGE  OF  STONE  29 

— without  his  uncle's  permission — and  Bessie,  out 
riding,  and  pass  Mabel  Arthur  on  a  crossing,  where 
she  would  have  to  wait  until  they  passed  by.  And 
he  wouldn't  speak  to  her  or  see  her  at  all;  but  he'd 
give  her  a  chance  later  on  to  speak  to  him,  if  she 
wanted  to,  and  apologize ;  and  when  she  did,  he  would 
just  lift  his  silk  hat  politely,  and — 

There  was  a  smothered  growl  in  the  rear;  then 
sharp  teeth  grazed  his  leg  and  closed  on  the  slack  of 
his  trousers,  while  he  was  nearly  thrown  by  the 
impact  of  a  bulldog  who  had  come  down  to  the 
gate. 

"  Hang  it,"  he  exclaimed,  "  even  the  dogs  are  down 
on  me." 

He  recognized  the  large  frame  farmhouse  standing 
back  in  the  darkness  as  that  of  Mr.  Bronson,  and 
he  had  once  enjoyed  a  passing  acquaintance  with  the 
dog;  so  he  spoke  to  him  kindly  and  firmly.  But 
words  count  for  little  with  bulldogs  on  duty,  and  he 
tried  to  kick.  The  dog  dodged,  growling  the  while 
and  gathering  in  more  cloth,  until  Dick  was  forced 
to  call  for  help.  The  door  opened,  and  in  the  stream 
of  light  far  within  people  stood  and  peered  into  the 
darkness. 

"  Call  your  dog  away,  please,  Mr.  Bronson,"  cried 
Dick.  "  I  can't  shake  him  off." 

Two  men  ran  down  the  path  and  into  the  road. 
One  was  Mr.  Bronson,  and  the  other  a  giant  of  a  man, 
who  lifted  the  dog  in  the  air  with  a  mighty  kick, 
just  as  the  cloth  began  tearing.  Half  of  Dick's  left 
trouser-leg  went  with  the  dog,  who  squeaked  once, 
and  trotted  into  the  house,  still  shaking  the  cloth. 

"  It's  me,  Mr.  Bronson,"  said  Dick. 

"  By  ginger !  What's  the  matter?  Turned  out, 
or  run  away  ?  " 


SO  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

"  I  guess  it's  both,  sir.  I  can't  live  home  any 
longer." 

"  I  know  that  uncle  o'  yours.  He's  a  nice  old 
plum.  Come  into  the  house,  boy,  and  we'll  talk  it 
over." 

In  spite  of  his  protests  that  his  trousers  were 
torn,  he  was  taken  into  the  large  kitchen,  where 
Mrs.  Bronson,  a  cheerful-faced  woman,  stood  with 
the  piece  of  cloth  in  her  hand — replevined  from  the 
dog — and  laughed  at  him.  It  is  given  women  to  laugh 
at  man's  calamity.  They  inherit  the  tendency  with 
their  long  hair  and  the  critical  faculty,  as  a  sexual 
characteristic.  Observe  their  uncontrollable  risibles 
on  a  crowded  street  when  a  man  falls  down,  or  loses 
his  hat,  or  makes  an  undignified  jump  to  save  his  life. 
Men  do  not  laugh  at  the  victim.  They  stop  the  hat, 
assist  the  fallen  one  to  his  feet,  or  mentally  anath 
ematize  the  motorman,  and  forget  the  circumstance 
in  a  minute. 

But  though  Mrs.  Bronson  laughed  at  him,  she 
hustled  him  into  a  bedroom,  told  him  to  throw  out 
his  trousers  for  her  to  mend,  and  go  to  bed  if  he 
pleased.  And  Dick  was  pleased — very  much. 
Stretched  between  cool  sheets,  he  congratulated  him 
self  on  the  happy  end  to  a  hard  day,  and  fell  asleep, 
but  wakened  soon  from  his  own  hard  breathing,  and 
because  of  the  talk  in  the  kitchen,  which  concerned 
him. 

CHAPTER  VIII 

IN  the  few  embarrassed  moments  of  his  stay  in  the 
kitchen  he   had   noticed  the   big  man  who   had 
kicked  the  dog,  and  recognized  him  as  one  he  had 
seen  at  times  through  his  boyhood  swinging  along 


THE  AGE  OF  STONE  31 

the  streets  from  the  station  to  the  country  road  and 
back — a  sunburned  man,  dressed  in  the  big-collared 
shirt  and  wide-bottomed  trousers  of  the  navy,  who 
was  reputed  to  be  Mr.  Bronson's  brother.  It  was  his 
voice,  a  deep,  rolling  baritone,  which  he  heard  as  he 
wakened. 

"  Can't  tell  anything  about  circumstantial  evi 
dence,"  he  was  saying.  "  Things  get  twisted  around 
mighty  curious  sometimes,  and  everything  points  to 
the  wrong  man.  On  that  chance  alone  I  should  say 
that  the  kid  didn't  take  the  money.  That's  a  smart 
boy — too  smart  to  put  back  anything  he'd  lifted." 

"  But  he  was  seen  taking  it,"  said  Mr.  Bronson's 
voice.  "  Another  boy  saw  him  and  told ;  that's  why 
he  put  it  back." 

"  Yes,  and  tells  a  likely  yarn,  too,  you  say ;  and 
this  one  tells  an  unlikely  yarn.  Consequently,  I'm 
with  him ;  I'm  on  the  other  side  of  circumstantial  evi 
dence — or  positive  evidence  where  there's  an  object 
in  making  it.  If  t'other  kid  stole  it  he  couldn't  ha' 
got  out  of  it  nicer.  Down  in  the  navy  yard,  on  the 
Trenton,  Sam  Davis,  one  of  the  'prentice  boys,  fin 
ished  his  time  and  got  his  discharge  and  money.  He 
was  a  likely  youngster  and  had  got  up  to  be  captain 
o'  the  mizzentop,  so  he  had  a  good  boodle  due  him — 
'bout  two  hundred.  Well,  he'd  shaken  hands  all 
'round  after  breakfast,  and  was  just  going  out  the 
gangway  port  when  something  caused  him  to  reach 
in  and  feel  of  his  munk-bag — little  leather  bag  we 
carry  our  money  in  when  we  have  any,  you  know — 
and  there  was  nothing  in  it.  So,  some  one  had  it, 
sure.  He  fired  his  bag  and  hammock  in  on  deck  and 
swore  he  wouldn't  quit  the  ship  till  he  got  it.  It  was 
there  when  he  turned  in  night  before,  he  said,  be 
cause,  though  he  admitted  being  three-sheets-in-the- 


S2  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

wind  when  he  came  aboard,  he  was  straight  enough 
to  make  sure  of  his  money  'fore  he  went  to  sleep. 
Well,  the  officers  took  up  the  case  and  called  all  us 
mizzen-  and  main-top  men  to  quarters  while  the  chief 
master-at-arms  went  through  our  dunnage.  They 
found  the  roll  in  my  hammock  'tween  the  mattress 
and  canvas.  Then  they  made  me  turn  out  my  pockets 
and  found  a  pocket-piece — a  Japanese  ten  sen — which 
Sam  thought  a  good  deal  of  and  never  let  go  out  of 
his  hands.  So  the  thief — which  was  me,  'cording  to 
the  evidence — had  gone  through  his  pockets  as  well 
as  his  munk-bag  while  he  was  sleeping  off  his  drunk." 

"  You  ought  to  be  ashamed  to  sit  there  and  tell 
it,  Ned  Bronson,"  said  Mrs.  Bronson's  voice. 

"  I  didn't  take  it.  I'd  borrowed  his  knife  day  be 
fore  and  returned  it.  The  coin  must  ha'  stuck  'tween 
the  blade  and  handle  and  dropped  out  in  my  pocket 
without  either  of  us  knowing  it.  It  was  a  penknife, 
not  the  big  lanyard  knife.  Well,  I  had  a  good  rec 
ord,  and  swore  black  and  blue  that  I  was  innocent, — 
and  even  Sam  didn't  like  to  believe  it, — so  they  didn't 
put  me  in  the  brig,  but  let  me  sling  my  hammock  in 
the  old  place,  and  that  night  Sam  himself  cleared  me. 
He  had  skipped  out  with  his  dunnage,  got  full  again, 
forgot  that  he  was  out  o'  the  old  ship,  and  that  night 
sneaked  aboard,  and  the  gun-deck  corporal  stowed 
him  under  a  gun  carriage  for  the  night.  'Bout  an 
hour  later  he  caught  him  fooling  'round  my  hammock 
trying  to  stow  his  wad  of  bills  under  my  mattress. 
He  was  sounder  asleep  than  I  was,  and  I'm  a  pretty 
sound  sleeper.  Corporal  reported  it  in  the  morn 
ing,  and  it  cleared  me." 

"  Oh — sleepwalking." 

"  Yup — and  whisky.  A  man'll  do  things  when 
he's  drunk  that  he  won't  remember  till  he  loads  up 


THE  AGE  OF  STONE  33 

again.  I  tell  you,  circumstantial  evidence  is  no 
good." 

"  I  believe  it  was  all  made  up  between  you  and  your 
friend  Sam,"  said  Mrs.  Bronson.  "  You're  a  bad  lot, 
you  sailor  men." 

"  Circumstantial  evidence  is  no  good,  I  tell  you." 

"  'Tain't  conclusive,  I  admit,"  said  Mr.  Bronson, 
"  but  it's  a  help.  That  boy  in  there  knows  the  names 
that  I  need  to  make  up  my  list.  That's  all  I  want 
of  him." 

"  He's  too  bright  a  boy,  anyhow,  to  stagnate 
around  this  blasted  old  town.  Send  him  down  to 
the  Minnesota,  and  I'll  make  a  sailor  of  him.  I  like 
that  boy;  he  showed  nerve  with  your  d — d  dog,  and 
he's  got  character.  Bet  you  don't  get  any  informa 
tion  out  o'  him." 

Dick  listened  no  more.  His  mended  trousers  were 
inside  the  door,  and  he  dressed  himself.  Stepping 
into  the  kitchen,  he  confronted  the  two  men  smoking 
at  the  table.  Mrs.  Bronson  had  disappeared. 

"  I  wasn't  asleep,  Mr.  Bronson,"  he  said,  "  and  I 
heard."  He  spoke  unevenly,  for  there  was  a  lump  in 
his  throat.  Turning  to  the  other,  who  was  regard 
ing  him  with  an  amused  look  in  his  brown  face,  he 
said : —  , 

"  You  are  right,  sir ;  I'll  tell  on  nobody.  All  I 
want  is  a  place  to  work  and  sleep.  Do  they  have  boys 
of  my  size  in  the  navy  ?  " 

"  Lots  o'  them.    Want  to  enlist  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,  I  do ;  I  think  I  would  like  it.  My  father 
was  a  naval  officer." 

"  It's  a  tough  life,  and  it  makes  a  machine  of  a 
man ;  but  as  I  understand  your  case  it's  about  the 
best  thing  you  can  do.  Are  you  healthy — ever  have 
fits?" 


34  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

"  I'm  as  healthy  as  I  can  be.  No,  I  never  had  fits 
jet." 

"Can  you  climb?" 

"  I  can  climb  trees." 

"  Can  you  keep  your  temper  when  you  feel  like 
murder?  Can  you  grip  your  tongue  'tween  your 
ieeth  when  a  young  pup  just  out  o'  the  naval  acad- 
amy  calls  you  a  swab,  and  a  soger,  and  a  farmer?  " 

Dick  swiftly  reviewed  the  day's  ordeals,  and  an 
swered  :  "  I  could  if  I  had  to,  sir." 

"  You'll  have  to,  never  fear.    Got  any  money?  " 

u  No,  sir — not  a  cent." 

"  Well,  I'll  tell  you.  You  can  hoof  it  to  New  York, 
and  starve  by  the  way,  but  'taint  necessary.  Fare's 
eighty  cents,  and  guardian  fee's  a  dollar.  I'll  go  a 
dollar  eighty  on  you.  I'm  guardian  to  three  young 
rapscallions  down  there  now.  You'll  ship  as  third- 
class  boy,  at  nine  a  month  and  rations,  but  you'll 
only  get  liberty  money  until  your  time  is  up — when 
you  are  of  age.  By  that  time  you'll  have  seen  some 
thing  of  the  world,  and  can  make  a  better  start  in 
life,  or  ship  over  again,  if  you  like  it.  You  can  pay 
me  the  dollar  eighty  in  instalments  out  of  your  lib 
erty  money. 

"  Bill,"  he  said  to  the  farmer,  "  let  this  boy  stop 
here  till  his  face  gets  in  shape  again,  and  if  I'm  gone 
then,  send  him  down  to  the  ship.  I'll  leave  you  the 
money." 

"  Well,  all  right.  But  say,  youngster,  I'll  give  you 
the  money — I'll  make  it  two  dollars — if  you  give  me 
the  names  of  the  other  boys." 

"  No,  sir.  I'm  obliged  to  Mrs.  Bronson,  but  I'd 
rather  walk  out." 

"  All  right,  all  right,"  said  the  farmer,  impatiently. 
"  I'll  get  'em.  Go  to  bed  again.  Good  luck  to  you." 


THE  AGE  OF  STONE  35 


CHAPTER  IX 

A  WEEK  later  Mabel  Arthur  was  handed  a  pack 
age  addressed  to  her  at  the  post-office.     It  con 
tained  a  key,  and  a  letter  which  she  read,  and  then, 
hurrying  home,  read  again  after  supper,  in  her  room. 
It  ran  as  follows : — 

"U.S.S.  MINNESOTA,  SEPT.,  1893. 

"Miss  Mabel  Arthur:  Here  is  the  key  which  your  brother 
used  to  open  Mr.  Clark's  desk  that  day  you  asked  me  to  look 
out  for  him.  It  was  because  I  said  I  would  that  I  did  not 
want  to  give  him  away.  So  I  took  the  money  away  from  him, 
but  he  had  the  key,  and  late  that  night  I  took  the  key  away 
from  him,  all  because  I  promised  you.  You  know  how  I  was 
caught  putting  the  money  back  next  morning;  but  you  be 
lieved  I  stole  it  the  same  as  all  the  others  did.  I  did  not 
take  it,  but  I  wanted  to  keep  my  promise  to  you.  I  loved  you, 
and  you  are  not  worth  powder  to  blow  you  up. 

"  Yours  truly, 

"  RICHARD  HALPIN. 

"  P.S.  I've  shipped  in  the  navy,  and  you  will  never  see  me 
again." 

Mabel  folded  the  letter,  and  idly  tapping  the 
window-sill  with  the  key,  watched  the  details  of  the 
garden  without  disappear  in  the  gathering  darkness ; 
then  she  arose  and  approached  an  old-fashioned 
writing-desk,  to  put  the  letter  away.  There  was  no 
key  in  the  lock,  and  almost  involuntarily  she  inserted 
the  one  in  her  hand ;  it  turned  the  bolt  easily.  She 
lighted  the  gas,  and  with  eyes  that  were  large  with 
growing  terror,  examined  the  key.  It  was  old-fash 
ioned  as  the  desk,  but  told  her  nothing.  She  exam 
ined  every  keyhole  in  the  room.  They  all  contained 
keys,  which,  one  by  one,  she  tried  in  the  desk;  but 
none  would  turn  the  lock  but  the  first.  She  opened 
the  desk,  and  carefully  blotting  out  with  ink  the  lines 
declaring  Dick's  sentiments  and  his  estimate  of  her 


36  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

value  in  powder,  threw  herself  face  down  on  the  bed. 

An  hour  later  her  brother's  whoop  on  the  street 
without  told  of  his  arrival  for  the  night,  and  when 
he  entered  the  house  she  called  him  into  her  room. 
Fifteen  minutes  later  she  called  her  father  from  the 
library,  and  five  minutes  after  she  was  in  the  street 
with  the  key  and  letter  in  her  hand,  speeding  toward 
the  residence  of  Mr.  Clark  and  stopping  her  ears 
against  a  harrowing  sound — a  sound  which  brought 
neighbors  out  of  doors  and  caused  many  a  jocular 
comment  over  the  fence,  a  boy's  wailing  screams 
punctuated  by  the  sharp  thwack  of  a  trunk  strap. 

Neither  she  nor  her  brother  attended  school  again; 
but  on  the  following  morning  Mr.  Clark,  with  a 
troubled  face,  addressed  the  scholars,  and  announced 
the  complete  exculpation  of  Richard  Halpin  from  the 
offense  with  which  he  had  been  charged,  by  the  con 
fession  of  the  real  culprit,  whose  name  he  saw  no 
occasion  to  divulge.  He  added  a  few  moral  reflec 
tions  concerning  the  peril  of  too  hasty  conclusions 
based  upon  the  outward  seeming  of  things,  and 
warned  them  of  the  folly  of  yielding  under  adverse 
pressure,  as  Richard  Halpin  from  a  lack  of  moral 
stamina  had  yielded,  to  the  extent  of  embracing, 
openly  and  brazenly,  disgraceful  fighting, — he  had 
attacked  his  schoolmates,  it  seemed, — and,  as  had 
become  known  next  morning,  running  away  from 
home.  However,  if  any  of  the  scholars  should  happen 
to  know  where  he  was,  it  would  be  advisable  to  let 
him  know  of  his  exoneration. 


THE  AGE  OF  IRON  37 

BOOK  II 

THE  AGE  OF  IRON 
CHAPTER  X 

PT1  HERE  was  smothered  excitement  throughout  the 
JL  ship.  A  boy  had  run  up  the  gun-deck  main- 
hatch  ladder  three  steps  at  a  time,  dodged  forward 
and  mounted  the  fore-hatch  ladder  to  the  spar-deck 
at  the  same  speed ;  then  he  had  sped  to  the  closed-in 
space  on  the  forecastle.  Another  boy  had  followed, 
then  another;  and  there  was  that  in  their  faces  to 
induce  men  and  boys  lounging  on  the  deck  and  sitting 
in  ports  to  close  books  with  a  snap,  to  put  away 
sewing-gear,  or  hurriedly  finish  tasks  they  had  "  sog- 
ered  "  at,  and  join  the  scattering  streams  of  blue 
jackets  crowding  up  from  the  decks  below. 

Ensign  Breen,  officer  of  the  deck,  shivering  at  the 
gangway  in  a  closely  buttoned  overcoat,  saw  the  com 
motion  and  mustering  of  men  and  boys,  and  turned 
his  back.  He  was  a  young  man,  not  twenty-four, 
with  a  pleasant  face,  as  brown  as  Caucasians  may 
become — nearly  as  brown  as  his  hair  and  cheery 
eyes;  for  he  was  just  back  from  a  tropic  station, 
and  had  not  yet  bleached  out  or  grown  accustomed 
to  the  wintry  chill  of  this  navy-yard  berth. 

"  Who  is  it  this  time,  Quartermaster?  "  he  asked 
of  a  big  man  who  stood  near  him. 

"  Don't  know  both,  sir,"  answered  the  Quarter 
master,  touching  his  cap ;  "  but  one  of  'em's  my  boy. 
He's  lickin'  all  hands  as  fast  as  they'll  take  it." 

"What's  his  name?" 


38  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

"  Halpin,  sir ;  apprentice.  He's  one  of  the  Maine's 
crowd.  I'm  his  guardian." 

"  Halpin  ?  I've  noticed  him.  What's  his  grudge 
against  all  hands  ?  " 

"  No,  grudge,  sir.  But  you  see,  when  he  shipped 
four  years  ago,  he  was  an  underbuilt  little  runt,  and 
every  small  scrapper  in  the  ship  who  could  box 
thought  it  right  and  proper  to  soak  Dick  because  he 
was  a  red-head.  He'd  fight  'em,  but  always  got  done 
up,  until  the  cap'n  o'  the  hold,  and  a  few  more  of 
us,  noticed  his  quick  movements,  and  trained  him  in 
boxing.  Then  came  his  turn,  and  he  had  all  the  fun. 
He  was  cock-o'-the-walk  'fore  he  went  to  Newport. 
He  isn't  quarrelsome,  sir ;  but  there's  a  lot  o'  strange 
men  in  from  the  Southern  Station,  and  the  buckoes 
among  'em  don't  know  Dick,  and  he  looks  so  soft 
and  innocent  that  they  begin  rubbing  his  fur  wrong 
way,  and  then  they  get  surprised." 

The  young  officer  smiled,  and  he  looked  at  his 
watch.  It  was  the  first  dog-watch,  and  there  were 
twenty  minutes  before  the  time  for  the  next  disturb 
ance  of  the  ship's  company — mess  formation. 

"  Bronson,"  he  said  in  a  tone  that  the  orderly  and 
messenger  boy  at  the  gangway  could  not  hear,  "  go 
forward  and  watch  it  unofficially.  Report  the  result 
to  me.  Don't  let  it  go  too  far,  though." 

"  Very  good,  sir,"  answered  the  quartermaster, 
with  a  grin.  He  left  the  bridge,  went  forward  and 
crowded  his  way  into  a  circle  of  fully  a  hundred  men 
and  boys  surrounding  two  who,  stripped  to  under 
shirts,  were  resting  after  a  round,  and  listening  to 
advice  from  their  seconds.  One  was  Dick  Halpin, 
twenty  years  old,  five  feet  ten  inches  in  height,  square- 
shouldered,  full-chested,  with  his  freckles  drowned  in 
darker  tan,  and  his  hair  changed  by  the  action  of 


THE  AGE  OF  IRON  39 

the  sun  and  wind  to  a  color  which  might  be  called 
coppery,  but  never  red.  It  was  uncut  and  wavy, — 
too  long  for  a  landsman  careful  of  his  personal  ap 
pearance, — but  it  formed  an  agreeable  border  to  his 
sunburned  face,  and  harmonized  peculiarly  with  his 
gray  eyes. 

His  antagonist  was  taller  and  heavier — and  slower, 
as  evidenced  by  his  well-marked  face  and  hard  breath 
ing.  The  fight,  short  as  it  had  been,  was  nearly 
finished  when  Bronson  arrived.  As  he  elbowed  his 
way  to  the  front  rank  of  excited  and  whispering 
onlookers,  time  was  called,  and  the  combat  resumed. 
The  larger  man  struck  wildly  and  heavily,  making  no 
effort  to  guard ;  but  not  a  blow  reached  the  agile, 
writhing,  whirling  body  of  the  other,  who  dodged 
and  ducked,  sprang  forward  and  back,  planting  light, 
stinging,  and  exasperating  taps  on  his  face  and  breast 
with  almost  the  quickness  of  a  rattlesnake's  stroke — 
smiling  through  it  all.  Three  times  Dick  circled 
around,  then,  seeing  an  opening  in  the  lax  guard  of 
his  tired  opponent,  he  sent  his  right  fist,  with  the 
weight  of  the  body  behind,  squarely  under  his  ear. 
The  impact  lifted  the  man,  large  as  he  was,  off  his 
feet,  and  he  fell  heavily  to  the  deck.  Time  was  called 
as  he  began  to  move. 

A  pent-up  hubbub  broke  loose.  The  enthusiasm, 
though  softly  expressed,  was  genuine  and  heartfelt. 
Boys  surrounded  Dick  and  shook  hands,  glad  of  the 
privilege.  Bronson  clapped  him  on  the  back  with  a 
force  that  made  him  wince,  and  then  disappeared. 
"  Bully  for  Dick — Cock-o'-the-walk  now,  hey,  Dick," 
said  the  boys.  "  Dick's  a  Greco-Romo-Boxo-wrastlo 
— Dick'll  be  Jimmy  Legs  yet — no,  he  won't — not  over 
two  hours — he'd  be  disrated — Dick,  you  want  to  do 
up  Jimmy  Legs  next;  he  got  me  two  hours  guard 


40  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

duty — go  for  him,  Dick."  A  small  boy,  the  pet  scamp 
of  the  ship,  dragged  a  larger  boy  up  to  Dick  and 
said : — 

"  Lick  my  brother  for  me,  Dixie.  He's  too  fresh. 
Lick  him,  and  I'll  be  your  clerk  and  cut  the  notches. 
Dick's  got  a  stick  full  o'  notches."  And  Dick,  put 
ting  on  his  shirt,  smiled,  but  said  nothing. 

The  defeated  one  painfully  arose  to  his  feet  and 
the  crowd  pushed  them  together.  Dick  extended  his 
hand. 

"  It's  all  right,  Halpin,"  said  the  other  as  he  took 
it.  "  You've  done  me  up  fair  and  square ;  and  I 
knew  you  were  workin'  up  to  it — knew  it  four  years 
ago." 

"  No,  Billson,  you're  wrong.  I'm  working  up,  yes ; 
but  not  for  you.  I  never  held  a  grudge  against  any 
one  in  the  navy — or  against  any  one  who'd  fight  fair. 
I  only  thought  you  and  I  ought  to  have  it  out." 

"  It's  all  right,  Dick ;  I  guess  you're  best  man 
aboard  now." 

"Best  man,"  laughed  Dick;  "  Bronson  could  shut 
his  hand  on  the  pair  of  us." 

The  crowd  was  dispersing,  and  Dick  descended  to 
the  gun-deck  where  he  belonged,  while  Billson  sought 
the  galley  and  the  cook's  ministrations  toward  the 
improving  of  his  damaged  countenance.  Fighting, 
though  against  the  written  and  spoken  rules  of  the 
service,  is  generally  winked  at  in  a  ship  holding  five 
hundred  men  and  boys,  the  officers  feeling  that  it  is 
much  better  for  two  who  disagree  to  go  through  a 
short,  sharp,  and  decisive  appeal  to  fists — at  the  end 
of  which  both  may  shake  hands — than  for  one  to 
develop  a  bullying  spirit  and  the  other  an  unneeded 
sense  of  injury.  Both  are  inimical  to  their  efficiency. 
But  though  Billson  had  fought  this  battle  with  an 


THE  AGE  OF  IRON  41 

animus  born  of  dislike  and  jealousy,  Dick,  on  the  con 
trary,  had  entered  it  with  a  joke  on  his  lips  and  a 
laugh  on  his  face. 

There  was  a  settled,  cheerful  light  in  his  gray  eyes 
that  had  not  been  there  in  his  school-days,  as  though 
he  felt  kindly  toward  the  small  world  he  was  con 
quering.  As  Bronson  had  testified,  his  first  days  in 
the  training-ship  were  grievous  ones — marked  by 
cuffs,  kicks,  and  insults  from  boys  he  could  pick  up 
and  carry — until  he  had  learned  to  defend  himself. 
Then  came  a  hard-fought  battle  with  an  Irish  main- 
topman,  and  victory  which  made  the  next  enemy  easier 
to  face.  For  six  months  after  this,  until  his  transfer 
to  the  Newport  Torpedo  Station,  his  dog-watches 
were  spent  either  in  boxing  practice  in  the  fore- 
hold,  or  in  settling  disputes  of  the  day  on  the  fore 
castle. 

He  had  easily  passed  the  final  examination  in  the 
ship's  school  when  he  enlisted,  but  this  did  not  deprive 
him  of  his  love  of  books  or  of  his  studious  habits. 
He  became  almost  a  daily  patron  of  the  ship's  library, 
and  in  the  only  compulsory  studies,  seamanship  and 
gunnery,  he  advanced  rapidly,  tutored  by  his  friend 
and  guardian,  Bronson.  He  had  boxed  the  compass 
in  one  lesson,  had  stationed  a  gun-crew  in  two,  and 
had  learned  the  parts  of  the  ship  and  the  knots  and 
hitches  used  in  lashing  hammocks  and  housing  awnings 
in  a  week.  He  also  learned  things  not  prescribed  by 
the  regulations,  such  as  the  tricks  necessary  in  the 
navy  to  escape  unpleasant  duty.  The  difference  be 
tween  the  apothecary's  clerk  and  the  executive  officer, 
and  the  minimum  of  respect  which  would  satisfy  the 
latter,  he  had  learned  in  one  harrowing  interview. 
But  at  the  end  of  a  month  he  applied  for  examination, 
and  became  a  second-class  apprentice  with  a  new  bag 


42  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

and  hammock-number,  which  transferred  him  from 
the  after  guard  to  the  maintop. 

His  friction  with  his  mates  reacted  on  his  mind, 
giving  him,  as  he  acquired  dominion  over  them,  an 
easy  confidence  in  himself,  and  decision  of  speech 
which  brought  him  local  promotion, — he  was  made 
boy-captain  of  the  maintop.  And  Dick's  rule  over 
the  half-hundred  boys  in  the  maintop  was  kindly,  yet 
thorough.  He  never  reported  for  punishment  a  boy 
who  refused  obedience  to  an  order;  he  repeated  the 
order  to  a  second  boy,  and  later  on  used  the  first  in 
his  fist  practice.  But  he  had  little  trouble  of  this 
kind;  his  wonderful  quickness  of  motion  and  growing 
proficiency  with  his  fists  impressed  the  whole  ship's 
company,  and  made  the  majority  his  friends.  Boys 
liked  the  genial,  composed  fellow  who  would  hit  them 
hard  with  a  smile  on  his  face,  hit  them  harder 
through  the  consequent  fight,  and  smilingly  advise 
them  on  their  weak  points  when  he  had  defeated 
them.  There  was  one  boy,  however,  with  whom  Dick 
did  not,  during  his  probationary  period,  come  to 
satisfactory  conclusions.  This  was  Billson,  an  ap 
prentice,  then  captain  of  the  forecastle,  who,  on 
Dick's  bewildering  first  day  on  board,  had  chased 
him  aft  with  clouts  and  unkind  words.  He  was  the 
champion  boxer  among  the  boys,  and  Dick  had 
wisely  avoided  a  second  meeting  until  sure  of  him 
self;  but  before  this,  had  come  his  transfer  to  the 
Newport  Torpedo  Station  for  further  instruction  in 
torpedo  work  and  rifled  gun  practice,  and  Billson's 
transfer  to  a  sea-going  cruiser.  Six  months  at  New 
port  made  Dick  a  first-class  apprentice,  and  he  was 
sent  to  the  Alliance,  sloop-of-war,  in  which  he  made 
a  cruise  and  mastered  the  sea  duties  of  a  sailor  in 
a  square-rigged  vessel — steering,  handling  of  sail. 


THE  AGE  OF  IRON  4£ 

sending  yards  and  masts  up  and  down,  and  the  usual 
boat,  fire,  and  collision  drill.  Then  a  year  in  the 
big  steel  cruiser  Chicago  and  another  in  the  new 
battleship  Maine  had  finished  him,  and  he  was  back 
to  the  receiving-ship  Vermont,  a  passed-seaman  ap 
prentice,  trained  and  paid  by  the  government  to 
fight,  and  to  use  as  weapons  fists,  clubs,  cutlasses, 
pistols,  rifles,  machine  guns,  rapid-fire  guns,  turret 
guns,  and  Whitehead  torpedoes.  And  here  he  had 
found  old  shipmates  of  four  years  ago,  among  them, 
Bronson  and  Billson,  and  had  polished  off  the  latter 
at  the  instigation  of  the  former,  who  loved  the  boy 
as  he  would  a  son,  and  whose  mind  retained  a  vivid 
picture — painted  by  Dick — of  a  scene  on  a  ball- 
ground,  where  his  boy  had  been  kicked  about  by 
five  others.  Bronson  often  talked  of  this  scene  at 
the  petty  officers'  mess,  and  hoped  fervently  that  it 
should  be  given  him  to  be  on  hand  when  that  boy 
returned  and  met  the  five.  It  was  to  this  end  that 
he  had  arranged  for  Dick's  training  in  the  first  days,, 
and  had  now  egged  him  on  to  try  conclusions  with 
the  skilled  Billson  as  a  last  test  of  his  prowess. 

Dick  was  not  revengeful.  The  bitterness  of  his 
last  days  at  home  had  long  left  his  mind,  but  the 
punishment  of  those  boys  had  been  so  thoroughly 
impressed  on  his  mind  as  a  duty  he  owed  to  himself 
and  his  calling,  that  he  looked  forward  to  it  with 
the  same  expectant  equanimity  that  he  would  toward 
a  coming  fight  on  the  forecastle,  or  a  transfer  to 
another  ship. 

As  for  George  Arthur,  his  fate  and  punishment, 
in  Bronson's  mind,  were  so  clearly  a  matter  for 
Providence  to  attend  to,  that  he  was  seldom; 
thought  of. 


44         MASTERS  OF  MEN 


CHAPTER  XI 

DICK  had  no  sooner  reached  the  lower  gun-deck 
after  the  fight  with  Billson  than  the  stentorian 
voice  of  the  chief  boatswain's  mate  came  down  the 
hatchway :  "  Halpin,  Halpin — pass  the  word  for  sea 
man  Halpin  to  report  to  the  officer  of  the  deck." 

The  cry  was  taken  up  and  repeated,  echoing  for 
ward  and  aft  on  three  decks ;  before  it  had  ceased 
Dick  was  touching  his  cap  to  Mr.  Breen. 

"  You  have  been  fighting,  sir,"  said  the  officer, 
assuming  a  stern  expression  of  face. 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  I  hear  that  you  are  the  most  quarrelsome  char 
acter  on  board — that  you  are  continually  fighting 
and  abusing  your  shipmates." 

"  I  didn't  know  that,  sir,"  said  Dick,  soberly. 

"  You  began  when  you  enlisted,  I  have  heard,  to 
thrash  every  boy  weaker  than  yourself." 

"  No,  sir,  I  did  not.  They  thrashed  me — all  who 
wanted  to.  It's  very  easy  to  get  into  a  row,  sir." 

"  And  since  then  you've  thrashed  them,  is  that 
it?" 

Dick  noticed  a  quiver  at  the  corner  of  Mr.  Breen's 
mouth,  and  answered  boldly,  "  I  just  finished  the  last 
of  that  crowd,  sir;  we  had  words  this  morning  over 
brass  work." 

The  officer  hummed  a  tune  softly  while  he  studied 
the  brown  back  of  Bronson,  busily  engaged  in  look 
ing  unconcerned,  yet  taking  in  every  word. 

"  Where  is  your  home,  Halpin?  "  he  asked,  after  a 
searching  look  into  Dick's  face. 

"  I  have  none,  sir ;  I  came  from  Allville,  up  near 
the  state  line." 


THE  AGE  OF  IRON  45 

"  Allville,"  repeated  the  officer,  half  to  himself. 
"  Do  you  know — well,  never  mind.  Halpin,"  he  said, 
earnestly,  "  quit  this  fighting.  It  works  against  you 
in  the  long  run.  I've  noticed  you  around  the  decks 
and  have  heard  good  reports  of  you  from  the  officers 
of  the  Maine.  I  want  you  for  a  shipmate.  Say  noth 
ing  to  the  men,  but  the  New  York  will  want  a  draft 
soon.  I  shall  go  in  her  and  may  be  able  to  have 
you  placed." 

"  The  New  York — thank  you,  sir.  I  hear  it's  the 
Mediterranean." 

"Either  that  or  the  South  Pacific;  but  it's  a 
desirable  berth." 

"  How  long  before  the  draft,  sir?  " 

"  A  couple  of  weeks." 

"  Then  I'd  better  apply  for  my  liberty  at  once, 
sir.  I'm  entitled  to  a  week." 

"  Go  ahead — and  be  good." 

Dick  saluted,  and  returned  to  the  gun-deck  with 
a  very  high  opinion  of  Mr.  Breen.  After  supper, 
when  Bronson  was  off  duty,  he  sought  him,  and  they 
had  a  conversation  which  so  affected  the  big  quarter 
master  that  he  applied  for  liberty  in  the  morning 
and  went  ashore.  When  he  returned,  forty-eight 
hours  later,  he  was  accompanied  by  two  marines 
from  the  gate  guard,  who  steered  him  to  the  officer 
of  the  deck,  and  reported  his  misconduct, — entering 
the  yard  intoxicated,  blowing  smoke  in  their  faces, 
bumping  the  sergeant's  head  against  a  stone  wall, 
and  using  language  disrespectful  to  the  Marine 
Corps  and  unbecoming  a  petty  officer  of  the  navy. 
For  which  Bronson,  though  extremely  repentant,  had 
his  shore  leave  stopped  for  a  month. 

"  And  I  can't  go  along,  Dick,"  he  groaned.  "  I 
can  only  give  my  blessing." 


46  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

And  not  only  his  blessing,  but  sound  advice  and 
superintendence  did  he  give,  to  the  result  that  Dick, 
who  would  have  journeyed  home  alone,  was  induced 
to  take  with  him  an  appreciative  and  enthusiastic 
squad  of  youngsters.  "  Not  to  stick  your  .oars  in," 
Bronson  enjoined  upon  them,  "  or  to  stand  in  his 
way ;  it's  his  funeral.  You're  a  guard  of  honor — 
you're  to  prevent  more  than  three  jumping  on  him 
at  once."  And  so,  when  a  liberty  crowd  of  a  hun 
dred  men  and  boys  marched  out  of  the  navy  yard 
a  few  mornings  later,  twelve  of  them  waited  with 
Dick  outside  until  the  rest  had  scattered  into  ad 
joining  streets,  then  boarding  a  bridge  car,  and 
arriving  at  the  New  York  side,  took  the  elevated 
road  uptown  to  the  Grand  Central  Station,  where 
Dick  bought  excursion  tickets  for  all,  and  handed 
them  around.  They  were  on  three  days'  liberty. 
They  had  been  carefully  selected  on  their  records 
from  a  hundred  eager  applicants  by  the  discriminat 
ing  Bronson.  They  were  devoted  to  Dick,  and  each 
felt  a  respect  for  himself  and  his  calling  based  on 
his  training  in  the  service,  and  a  chronic  sense  of 
injury  which  came  only  of  his  parentage;  for  all  but 
Dick  were  Irish-born, — mulligans,  they  were  called, 
— and  Dick  himself  inherited  red  hair,  which  is 
conducive  to  latent  pugnacity,  at  least. 

Truly  Bronson  had  chosen  wisely.  There  were 
Casey,  Sullivan,  O'Toole,  and  Devlin,  shipmates  of 
Dick  on  the  Maine;  Shannon  and  Doyle  from  the 
Atlanta;  Billson,  whose  first  name  was  Dennis,  from 
the  Chicago;  and  Webster,  Scanlon,  Killroy,  Keegan, 
and  Kerrigan  from  the  Miantonomah.  All  wore  the 
cap  ribbons  of  their  last  ships;  all  were  in  shirt 
sleeves, — for,  the  weather  being  fine,  the  uniform 
of  the  day  had  not  included  peacoats, — and  all,  ex- 


THE  AGE  OF  IRON  47 

cept  Dick,  who  paid  car  fare  and  expenses,  were 
penniless,  and  for  this  reason  had  not  been  off  the 
Cob-dock  for  months.  Thirteen  bronzed,  active, 
muscular  young  sailors  on  liberty — thirteen  un 
leashed  terriers — were  invading  a  quiet  country  town. 

At  the  station,  while  waiting  for  the  train,  Dick 
had  his  first  misgivings.  Kerrigan  would  borrow  a 
dollar  of  him  and  treat  the  crowd,  and  being  denied 
the  pleasure,  threatened  to  "  shake  him,"  and  only 
changed  his  mind  when  he  was  sternly  directed  by 
Dick  to  "  clear  out."  Then  Dick  delivered  a  short 
lecture  in  the  station  on  the  wisdom  of  temperance, 
and  advised  those  who  would  not  take  orders  from 
him  and  submit  to  his  management  of  the  job,  to 
stay  behind.  He  would  much  rather  go  home  alone, 
he  said,  as  he  left  town  with  a  good  reputation,  and 
was  a  little  ashamed  of  the  company  he  was  now  in. 
This,  with  Dick's  known  superior  education  and 
habitual  correctness  of  speech,  impressed  them. 
They  reproved  Kerrigan,  and  vowing  good  conduct 
and  obedience,  passed  through  the  gate  and  boarded 
the  train,  which,  at  one  o'clock  in  the  afternoon, 
landed  them  at  Allville. 

The  first  thing,  of  course,  was  something  to  eat, 
and  Dick  marshaled  them  across  the  street  and  into 
the  dining  room  of  what  had  been  the  Allville  House, 
but  now,  with  a  new  coat  of  paint  and  larger  sign 
and  barroom,  was  the  Hotel  Morrisey.  "  Dinner  for 
thirteen,"  he  ordered  of  a  waiter  as  they  seated 
themselves,  "  and  bring  me  the  bill  in  advance." 

"  Now,  boys,"  he  said,  as  he  pocketed  the  change, 
"  I  shall  hurry  thpough  and  find  the  lay  of  the  land, 
while  you  wait  here.  Understand  me — no  drinking; 
you've  got  no  money,  but  you  might  be  treated. 
Take  cigars." 


48  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

They  said  they  would.  Dick  bolted  his  dinner 
and  hurried  out,  passing  in  the  door  a  red-faced  man 
in  an  alpaca  coat  and  immaculate  shirt-front.  This 
man  looked  after  him  as  though  he  would  have 
spoken,  then,  spying  the  party  at  the  table,  bounded 
toward  them. 

CHAPTER  XII 

DICK  passed  into  the  business  street  of  the  town, 
where  familiar  faces  peered  at  him.  But  none 
recognized  in  the  bare-throated,  sunburned  sailor, 
swinging  along  with  a  man's  vigorous  stride,  the 
under-sized,  freckled  schoolboy  who  had  disappeared 
under  a  cloud.  On  his  part,  he  did  not  care  to  make 
himself  known.  There  were  changes, — a  trolley  line 
had  been  established,  and  new  building*  replaced  some 
that  he  remembered.  The  town  had  become  a  city ; 
a  new  city  hall  arose  from  the  park,  with  a  police 
station  on  the  lower  floor;  a  bright-fronted  theater 
faced  the  park  on  a  side  street,  and  next  it  was  a 
Salvation  Army  barracks,  while  a  red  brick  build 
ing,  with  blue-shirted  men  lounging  in  the  open  door 
way,  through  which  could  be  seen  a  fire  engine  and 
hose-cart,  testified  further  to  the  prosperity  of  the 
town.  These  changes  pained  him.  It  was  no  home 
coming  to  Dick ;  he  had  loved  the  scenes  of  his  boy 
hood. 

"  Ought  to  see  Aunt  Mollie  first,"  he  mused,  as  he 
reached  the  resident  portion ;  "  but  I  won't — not  till 
evening.  She'd  keep  me  too  long.  Here's  Bessie's 
street — if  she  still  lives  there." 

He  was  in  a  side  street,  and  soon  reached  one  of 
a  row  of  Queen  Anne  cottages — the  kind  which  dom 
inates  all  others  in  the  suburbs  of  American  cities. 


THE  AGE  OF  IRON  49 

There  was  a  brighter,  more  cared-for  look  to  all  of 
them  than  there  had  been,  and  especially  did  the  one 
before  him  indicate  the  prosperity  of  its  owner.  The 
fence  had  been  removed,  flower  beds  had  been  laid 
out  on  the  lawns,  showing  here  and  there  with  the 
dead  grass  through  shallow  snow-banks,  while  from 
within  came  the  sound  of  piano  music — improvised 
chords  in  minor. 

"  Bessie  had  no  piano,"  he  said ;  "  but  she  liked 
music.  Wonder  if  the  old  man's  made  his  pile.  I'll 
see." 

He  mounted  the  steps,  opened  the  door  of  a  storm- 
house,  and  touched  a  button  inside.  "  Electric  bells," 
he  muttered. 

The  music  ceased  and  was  followed  by  the  patter 
of  light  feet ;  then  the  door  swung  open  and  a  young 
lady  was  facing  him — a  fluffy-haired  creature  with 
pink-and-white  cheeks,  who  looked  at  him  with  wide- 
open,  surprised  eyes. 

"  Hello,  Bessie,"  he  said,  cheerily;  "  how  are  you? 
I've  come — why,  Bessie,  don't  you  know  me  ?  " 

"  I — really — "  she  began  doubtfully,  while  she 
drew  back  into  the  hallway,  "  I — why,  Dick — Dick 
Halpin — where  did  you  come  from?  " 

She  advanced  with  a  smile  of  genuine  welcome  in 
her  face,  and  extended  her  hand.  Then  she  invited 
him  in  and  seated  him  in  a  corner  of  the  parlor  and 
herself  in  another,  where  she  studied  his  face,  with 
a  half-smiling,  half-nervous  expectancy  on  her  own. 

"  Anna  is  at  school  to-day,"  she  said  at  last,  "  and 
mamma  is  down  town.  They'll  be  home  soon ;  they'll 
be  glad  to  see  you." 

"  All  right.  Now,  Bessie,  tell  me  the  news. 
What's  happened?  Going  to  school  yet?  " 

"  Yes,"  she  answered,  demurely.     "  But  I'm  home 


SO  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

to-day  because  I  expect — I  expected  company.  Your 
class  graduates  in  a  few  days,  and  they  will  have 
their  commencement  exercises  in  the  new  theater." 

"  Entertainment  —  oratory  —  singing  —  and  all 
that?  " 

"  Yes,  and  Will  Simpson,  you  know — you  remem 
ber  him — is  valedictorian." 

"  He  is,  eh — um-humph.  Where's  Tom  Allen  now, 
Bessie?  At  school?  " 

"  Yes  ;  he  graduates  too." 

"Tom  Brandes  and  Ned  Brown?" 

"  Graduates.  But  why,  what's  the  matter  with 
them?" 

"  One  more,  Bessie,  please.     Where's  Pig  Jones  ?  " 

"  Ran  away  from  home,  and  nobody  knows  where 
he  went." 

"  Good — thank  you,  Bessie.  You're  a  brick — 
you're  a  full-powered  newspaper — and,  oh,  by  the 
way,  where's  young  Arthur?  " 

"  Didn't  you  hear?  He  went  to  the  Naval  Acad 
emy  over  three  years  ago.  He  was  sent  to  a  pre 
paratory  school  just  after  you  left." 

Dick  whistled  softly. 

"  And  some  time  I'll  have  to  take  orders  from 
that,"  he  muttered. 

"  I'm  really  grateful,  Bessie,"  he  continued  seri 
ously  as  he  arose  to  go.  "  I  came  only  on  business, 
and  you've  helped  me  tremendously." 

"  You  came  on  business,"  she  queried,  "  and  have 
catechised  me  as  you  pleased,  but  you've  told  me 
nothing  of  yourself.  \Vhere  have  you  been  all  these 
years?  Did  you  bring  any  message?  " 

"Message — no,  Bessie,  who  from?  I  wanted  to 
see  you." 

Without  knowing  why,   Dick   saw   that   she   was 


THE  AGE  OF  IRON  51 

immensely  relieved;  she  smilingly  invited  him  to  sit 
down  again. 

"  I'm  in  a  hurry  now,  Bessie,"  he  answered.  "  But 
I'll  call  again  this  evening." 

"  I  haven't  invited  you  to  call  this  evening."  His 
face  straightened  a  little.  She  saw  it  and  said  gently, 
"  You  see  I  have  an  engagement." 

"  Oh,  all  right ;  I'll  hunt  another  sweetheart." 

"  Yes ;  then  try  Mabel  again,"  she  said,  sweetly. 
"  She's  a  lovely  girl  now.  Nothing  like  what  she 
was  when — when  she  wasn't  worth  powder  to  blow 
her  up." 


CHAPTER  XIII 

DICK'S  face  flamed.  He  had  resolutely  put 
Mabel  from  his  mind,  and  even  the  mention 
and  thought  of  her  brother  bore  no  relation  to  the 
memory  he  cherished  of  his  boyish  regard  for  her. 
He  would  not  have  spoken  of  her;  but  Bessie  had 
broken  his  guard,  and  with  the  sound  of  her  name 
came  an  eager  desire  to  hear  of  her,  which  contrasted 
painfully  with  his  humiliation ;  for  how  could  Bessie 
quote  from  his  letter  if  it  had  not  become  public 
property? 

"So  she  showed  you  that,  did  she?"  he  said  at 
last, 

"  No,  she  did  not,"  said  Bessie  from  the  depths 
of  a  sofa,  where  she  had  collapsed  in  her  laughter. 
"  But  as  my  most  intimate  friend,  she  quoted  to 
me  your  opinion  of  her.  Oh,  '  I  loved  you,  and  you 
are  not  worth  powder  to  blow  you  up.' '  And  Bessie 
was  again  overcome. 

"  Well,  have  it  out  with  yourself,  Bessie,"  he  said, 


52  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

painfully ;  "  and  then  tell  me.  How  is  she  ?  I 
haven't  heard  of  her  since  I  left." 

Bessie  arose  and  laughed  no  more.  His  face  for 
bade  it ;  but  she  was  still  woman  enough  to  tease  him. 

"  She  is  very  well,  I  believe,  and  at  home  now. 
I  may  see  her  to-morrow.  Would  you  like  to  send 
a  message  by  me?  No.  Well,  I  shall  say  that  I've 
seen  you,  anyway.  She  would  be  delighted  to  meet 
you  again,  I  know. 

"  Of  course,"  the  girl  went  on  with  feminine  ma 
liciousness,  "  Mabel  is  enormously  popular.  She 
came  out  last  year,  and  she  has  lawyers,  doctors, 
literary  men,  artists,  well — all  kinds  of  men,  in  her 
train,  with  a  few  millionaires  thrown  in." 

"  And  she,"  he  began,  awkwardly. 

"  She — well,"  purred  Bessie,  "  there  is  Mr.  Breen, 
of  the  navy — have  you  met  him  ?  " 

"Breen — Ensign  Breen?"  repeated  Dick. 

"  Yes,  Ensign  Breen.  She  met  him  before  her 
debut,  and  his  chance  should  be  good.  He  is  a 
sailor.  Her  first  love  letter  came  from  a  sailor,  and 
he  will  get  the  reflected  benefit." 

For  the  purpose  of  further  tormenting  him,  Bessie 
had  said  too  much.  Dick  knew  the  pay  and  mar 
riage  value  of  an  ensign,  aside  from  the  element  of 
love,  which  would  have  reached  a  definite  point  in 
less  than  two  seasons.  This  had  flashed  through  his 
brain  without  process  of  reason.  But  what  hard 
ened  him  was  the  following  thought — that  of  the 
vast  social  gulf  between  himself  and  the  ensign,  be 
tween  a  sailor  before  the  mast  and  a  commissioned 
officer. 

"  Bessie,"  he  said  with  a  mock  courtesy  and  reck 
lessness  born  of  his  conflicting  emotions,  "  were  I 
worthy,  I  should  extend  through  you  my  congratu- 


THE  AGE  OF  IRON  53 

lations  to  Miss  Arthur  on  her  conquest.  Were  I 
in  a  position  to  advise,  I  should  caution  her  to  be 
ware  of  naval  officers — especially  ensigns.  They  do 
not  earn  as  much  as  the  ship's  cook,  and  their  wives 
take  in  washing  to  clothe  them." 

"  Why,  you  cannot  mean  it,"  said  the  astonished 
girl.  "  Mr.  Breen  is  an  ensign,  and  I  know — " 

"  Ensign  Breen,"  said  Dick  with  fine  anarchistic 
scorn.  "  Ensign  Breen,  of  the  Vermont.  Why, 
Breen  killed  a  Kanaka  woman  with  hasheesh  in  the 
Straits  of  Sunda  last  cruise  but  one.  Got  a  wife 
in  'Frisco,  two  in  Antwerp,  and  a  whole  harem  in 
the  Sandwich  Islands.  Got  knifed  in  Rio  for  run 
ning  a  dual  establishment ;  and  he  pays  alimony  in 
four  towns  on  this  coast,  and — " 

"  I  don't  believe  a  single  word  you  say." 

She  had  grown  an  inch  taller.  Her  eyes  were 
snapping  and  her  finger-nails  were  buried  in  the  palms 
of  her  hands,  while  her  cheeks,  but  for  two  little  red 
spots  which  came  and  went,  were  white. 

"  Fact,  Bessie — why,  what's  the  matter?  " 

She  threw  herself  on  the  sofa  and  buried  her  face 
in  the  pillow. 

"What's  the  trouble,  Bessie?"  he  asked.  Then, 
dimly  realizing  the  truth,  he  began  to  explain. 

"I  was  only  joking;  it  was  all  a  string  of  lies. 
Didn't  think  what  I  was  saying,  Bessie — honest. 
Don't  cry  any  more,  now.  I'm  sorry.  I  wouldn't 
make  you  cry  for  anything.  Mr.  Breen's  a  good 
fellow — one  of  the  best.  He's  my  officer." 

"  There  must  be  something,"  she  sobbed ;  "  you 
would  not  dare  say  such  things  unless  you  knew." 

"  You  mean  that  where  there's  smoke  there's  fire, 
Bessie?  It's  all  smoke,  every  bit.  You  stirred  me 
up,  and  I  didn't  care  what  I  said." 


54  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

She  sat  up  and  dried  her  eyes,  while  he  sang  the 
praises  of  Ensign  Breen,  ascribing  virtues  to  him 
that  would  have  astonished  the  young  officer  had  he 
heard.  But  Dick,  with  a  sore  heart  of  his  own,  felt 
a  large  and  generous  sympathy  for  other  aching 
hearts,  and  an  especial  interest  in  Bessie,  his  only 
friend  in  the  old  trouble,  who  evidently  loved  this 
man.  She  listened  quietly — eagerly — and  at  last 
smilingly. 

"  I  must  go,  Bessie,"  he  said,  when  he  felt  that 
he  had  undone  the  harm  of  his  thoughtless  words. 
"  Mr.  Breen  and  I  will  go  out  in  the  New  York.  If 
you  like,  I'll  write  you  occasionally,  and  give  you 
the  news.  Will  you  answer  a  letter  now  and  then?  " 

"  Why,  of  course,"  said  the  subdued  girl ;  "  I  shall 
be  glad  to  hear  from  you  and  glad  to  write  to  you." 
And  perhaps  each  knew,  without  further  compact, 
the  kind  of  news  expected  of  the  other.  Dick  se 
cured  his  cap  and  they  stepped  into  the  hall. 

"  Promise  me,"  she  said,  as  she  opened  the  inner 
door  for  him,  "  that  you  will  not  speak  of — this— • 
to  Mabel,  or — to  Mr.  Breen." 

"  Of  course  I  won't,  Bessie.  Officers  don't  ex 
change  confidences  with  blue-jackets,  and  as  for  the 
other — we're  not  acquainted.  Good-by,  Bessie;  I'll 
write." 

"  Good-by,  Dick." 

Her  pretty  face,  with  its  pleading  look  not  yet 
supplanted  by  the  coming  smile,  was  close  to  him. 
Obeying  an  impulse,  he  suddenly  passed  his  arm 
around  her  waist. 

"  Don't,  please  don't ! "  she  cried  as  she  endeav 
ored  to  escape ;  then,  helpless  in  his  strong  grasp,  she 
remained  passive,  while  he  kissed  her.  When  he 
looked  up  he  stared  into  the  startled  face  of  Ensign 


THE  AGE  OF  IRON  55 

Breen,  who,  in  citizen's  clothes — high  hat,  silk-faced 
top-coat,  and  all — was  standing  in  the  outer  door. 
Dick  confusedly  knuckled  his  forehead, — his  cap  was 
on  the  floor, — but  the  officer  ignored  him. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  Miss  Fleming,"  said  Mr. 
Breen  as  he  lifted  his  hat,  "  but  the  bell  was  inside, 
and  I  opened  the  outer  door.  I  am  very  sorry. 
Good  afternoon." 

He  turned  and  was  gone  before  she  could  reply. 
Bessie  sank  into  a  hall  chair. 

"  Here's  a  pretty  mess,"  muttered  Dick.  "  Bessie, 
I'm  sorry,  honest,  I  am;  who  would  have  thought 
he'd  have  shown  up?  " 

"  I,"  she  said,  rising  and  pointing  to  the  door. 
"  I  expected  him.  You  do  not  know  the  harm  you 
have  done.  Go,  and  do  not  come  back.  Do  not 
write  to  me  or  ever  speak  to  me  again.  I  hate  you." 

"  Well,  all  right,"  he  answered  humbly,  picking  up 
his  cap ;  "  I'm  sorry,  Bessie — that's  all  I  can  say." 

But  she  had  entered  the  parlor.  He  opened  the 
door  and  passed  out,  with  an  opinion  of  himself 
that  he  had  never  held  before.  Down  the  street, 
just  turning  the  corner,  was  Mr.  Breen,  stepping 
briskly  along  with  the  erect,  graceful  carriage  that, 
somehow,  is  never  acquired  but  at  Annapolis  and  on 
American  quarter-decks. 

"  Going  around  to  call  on  her,  I'll  bet,"  he 
growled. 

Humiliated  and  self-reproachful,  burning  with 
jealous  curiosity,  his  moral  fiber  somewhat  weakened, 
he  did  what  at  other  times  he  would  not  have  done. 
He  followed  the  ensign  and  saw  him  mount  the  steps 
of  the  large  house  he  remembered  so  well.  Then,  in 
a  mood  which  unfitted  him  for  even  his  own  company, 
he  went  down  to  the  hotel. 


56  MASTERS  OF  MEN 


CHAPTER  XIV 

DICK  found  his  men  in  the  barroom,  noisy  and 
talkative,  surrounded  by  an  admiring  crowd  of 
villagers.  One  glance  told  him  the  situation. 

"  Hooray  here,  Dick,  me  lad,"  called  the  red-faced 
man  behind  the  bar.  "  I  know  ye  by  reputation. 
Yer  Ned  Bronson's  best  lad,  and  I'm  his  best  friend-. 
Step  up  here,  Dick,  and  have  one  wid  me." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Dick,  savagely ;  "  I'm  not 
drinking;"  and  then,  to  the  others,  "I  don't  need 
you — not  a  blasted  one  of  you.  Breen's  in  town — 
I've  just  seen  him.  Do  you  want  to  go  in  the  brig?  " 

"  It's  all  right,  Dick,"  they  protested.  "  We  had 
just  one  apiece.  That  hurts  no  one.  This  is  Mor- 
risey's  place — " 

"  As  many  as  can  toe  a  line,"  interrupted  Dick, 
"  I'll  use — no  more.  Fall  in." 

They  formed  a  line,  every  pair  of  toes  just  touch 
ing  a  crack  in  the  floor. 

"Count  fours,"  called  Dick.  "One,"  said  the 
first ;  the  next  called  two,  the  next  three,  the  next 
four;  then  they  began  at  one,  until  the  groups  of 
fours  were  numbered. 

"  Twos  right — march ! "  he  called,  and  as  they 
formed  double  column  and  marched  through  the  door, 
Morrisey  whooped  and  ran  for  his  coat  and  hat. 
Dick  saw,  by  the  clock  over  the  new  city  hall,  that 
he  had  fifteen  minutes  to  spare  before  the  closing 
bell  of  the  school  would  ring,  and  as  this  time  was 
ample,  he  marched  his  guard  by  roundabout  streets, 
so  as  to  avoid  a  possible  meeting  with  Mr.  Breen.  It 
was  a  new  spectacle  in  the  town,  and  soon  the  side 
walks  on  both  sides  in  the  rear  were  crowded  with 


THE  AGE  OF  IRON  57 

a  growing  throng  of  boys  and  a  few  men  and  girls. 
Over  the  heads  of  those  just  behind  the  parade 
loomed  the  stovepipe  hat  and  joyful  red  face  of 
Morrisey.  Dick,  sullenly  conscious  of  the  interest 
they  had  aroused,  muttered :  "  Might  as  well  have 
brought  a  brass  band  as  this  gang;  but  I'll  carry  it 
through  if  we  have  to  clean  up  the  town." 

On  the  next  street  was  the  school.  Dick  wheeled 
them  around  the  corner,  halting  them  in  open  order, 
a  file  on  each  side,  with  himself  at  the  head.  Op 
posite  was  the  ball-ground;  he  could  see  the  tree 
under  which  he  had  been  mobbed;  and  across  the 
years  of  his  wandering  at  sea  came  to  his  mind  in 
all  its  early  force  the  wrong  and  the  rage  of  that 
last  day,  softened  only  by  the  warm-heartedness  of 
Bessie.  Not  even  his  regret  for  his  treatment  of 
her  now  availed  to  stem  or  relieve  the  overflow  of 
latent  fury  which  the  scenes  of  his  humiliation  and 
disgrace  set  free.  He  wished  that  Mr.  Clark,  who 
had  branded  him  as  a  thief,  would  come  out  and 
interfere.  He  wished  that  George  Arthur  could  be 
there,  to  receive  his  undivided  attention  for  only  a 
minute,  and — yes,  that  his  sister,  who  believed  him 
a  thief,  could  be  there  to  witness.  And  as  for  the 
townspeople  behind,  if  they  interfered — well,  he  had 
twelve  "  mulligans  "  to  attend  to  them. 

The  bell  in  the  cupola  above  clanged  its  dozen 
strokes  and  ceased.  Then  the  same  old  janitor  of 
four  years  back  emerged  from  the  basement  stairs 
at  the  side  and  threw  open  the  doors  of  the  girls' 
entrance.  With  a  curious  glance  at  the  two  lines 
of  blue,  he  passed  along  and  opened  the  entrance 
for  the  boys.  In  a  few  minutes,  laughing,  shouting 
youngsters  of  both  sexes — the  junior  department — 
emerged  and  hovered  near  the  sailors,  curiosity 


58  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

silencing  their  noise.  Next  came  the  senior  depart' 
ment,  boys  of  between  thirteen  and  sixteen,  and 
pretty,  graceful  girls,  most  of  whom  Dick  remem 
bered  as  "  young  uns  "  in  knickerbockers  and  short 
dresses.  They  passed  through  and  around  the  wait 
ing  blue-jackets  with  curiosity  scarcely  less  than  that 
of  the  juniors,  and  halted  with  the  spectators  beyond. 
Then  appeared  the  high  school  scholars — ladylike 
young  girls  and  well-dressed  young  men,  who  paired 
off,  here  and  there,  and  stepped  briskly  down  toward 
the  gauntlet.  They  were  closely  scrutinized  by  Dick 
as  they  passed,  but  none  recognized  in  the  young  man 
at  the  head  of  the  lines  the  schoolmate  of  the  past. 
It  was  for  him  to  make  himself  known.  He  placed 
himself  before  a  heavily-built  young  gentleman,  in 
gloves  and  buttoned  overcoat,  whose  full  mustache 
had  almost  disguised  him. 

"  Stop,"  he  said  in  a  voice  that  was  almost  a  snarl. 
"  You're  Tom  Allen,  aren't  you?  Yes — Tom  Allen. 
Know  me?  No?  You  don't  know  me.  I'm  the  thief 
and  the  telltale.  I'm  Dick  Halpin.  I'm  here  to  re 
peat  what  I  told  you  once  before — over  there  on  the 
ball-ground.  Tom  Allen,  you — are — a — liar." 


CHAPTER  XV 

"TK7HA— what?      Eh.      Hello,     Dick.      Didn't 
V  V     know  you.     When  d'you  get  back  ?  "  said 
Tom,  too  surprised  to  comprehend  Dick's  attitude. 

"  That's  not  the  question,"  answered  Dick.  He 
stooped  and  picked  up  a  sliver  of  wood  from  the 
sidewalk,  which  he  balanced  on  Tom's  shoulder.  Then 
he  knocked  it  off,  and  as  Tom  smiled  weakly  and 
placidly  at  the  declaration  of  war,  he  struck  him  in 


THE  AGE  OF  IRON  5S 

the  face.  Tom  understood;  his  lip  was  cut  and  his 
nose  bleeding. 

"  Let  me  alone,"  he  whined,  but  Dick  sprang  be 
hind  him,  struck  out  again  with  all  his  strength,  and 
Tom  staggered  toward  the  line  of  blue-jackets. 

"Pass  him  through,"  called  Dick;  "he's  had 
enough." 

With  yells  and  laughter  they  passed  him  through. 
Tom,  in  a  state  of  unstable  equilibrium,  chassed 
down  the  line,  kept  from  falling  by  the  alternate 
blows  he  received  from  each  side.  Before  he  had 
received  the  last  and  floundered  to  the  sidewalk  be 
yond,  Dick,  realizing  the  magnitude  of  the  task  he 
had  set  for  himself,  bounded  toward  the  waiting 
group  at  the  gate. 

Confronting  him  was  the  stern-faced  Mr.  Clark, 
his  old  teacher. 

"Is  this  you,  Richard  Halpin?"  he  said,  menac 
ingly.  "  Stop  this  at  once,  or  I  shall  send  for  the 
police." 

"  Yes,  Mr.  Clark,"  answered  Dick ;  "  and  as  you're 
too  old  for  me,  I  advise  you  to  keep  out.  I've  started 
to  lick  the  gang  that  licked  me,  and  I'll  do  it,  too. 
And  if  you  call  your  police,  they'll  get  hurt — that's 
all." 

"  He  won't  lick  me,"  said  a  tall,  broad-shouldered 
and  well-dressed  young  man,  who  stepped  to  Mr. 
Clark's  side.  It  was  Will  Simpson,  the  boy  who,  at 
sixteen,  had  thrashed  a  man ;  and  he  was  removing 
his  outer  garments.  Dick,  with  wide-open  eyes^ 
waited  until  he  had  hung  them  over  the  fence,  then 
asked,  "Ready?" 

"  Yes — ready ;  always  ready,"  answered  Will, 
dryly  and  composedly,  bringing  his  two  big  fists  to 
position. 


60  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

But  before  they  were  quite  in  position — almost 
before  the  last  word  had  left  his  lips — Dick  had 
planted  both  fists  between  his  eyes.  Will  staggered 
against  the  fence,  recovered  and  advanced  angrily. 
But  the  strength  and  skill  that  had  made  him  a  village 
champion  were  of  no  avail  before  Dick  Halpin — a 
seaman  apprentice  of  the  navy.  Shameful  and  bitter 
before  his  schoolmates  was  his  punishment,  as  Dick, 
unhurt  by  his  lunging  strokes,  danced  around  him, 
and  at  last,  when  he  made  a  wild  rush,  sent  him  to 
earth. 

"  Any  more?  "  cried  Dick,  in  an  abandon  of  reck 
lessness.  "  Webster — Scanlon.  Here — take  care  of 
this  one  in  case  he  wants  more." 

These  two  advanced,  lifted  the  demoralized  Will 
Simpson  to  his  feet  and  escorted  him  to  the  ranks. 
Dick,  with  flashing  eyes  and  dilating  nostrils,  the 
battle-fever  in  his  soul,  pushed  through  the  scatter 
ing,  agitat«d  group  at  the  gate  and  caromed  into  a 
white-haired  old  gentleman  whom  he  knew  as  the  high 
school  principal,  but  who  had  no  knowledge,  past  or 
present,  of  Dick. 

"  Stand  clear,  sir,"  he  cried  to  the  shocked  old 
gentleman ;  "  I'm  reforming  your  school."  He 
brushed  past  him.  "  Ned  Brown,  Tom  Brandes,"  he 
muttered.  "Are  they  here?" 

Up  the  street,  toward  the  country  road,  was  a 
group — scholars  of  both  sexes,  and  among  them,  as 
he  looked,  Dick  recognized  the  faces  of  the  two  he 
had  named — tall  young  fellows  who  had  the  appear 
ance  of  being  able  to  run.  He  could  catch  one,  but 
not  the  other.  Turning  the  other  way  he  beheld 
Mr.  Clark  and  the  high  school  principal  hurrying 
past  his  shipmates.  An  indignant  crowd  surrounded 
the  sailors,  and  down  the  street — two  blocks  away — 


THE  AGE  OF  IRON  61 

were  three  policemen,  with  drawn  clubs,  coming  on 
a  run.  Dick  grasped  the  situation  at  a  glance. 
"  Devlin — Kerrigan,"  he  called,  "  come  here.  Look 
out  for  the  cops  behind  you,  boys.  Clear  out.  Turn 
those  fellows  loose  and  muster  at  the  station  at  six." 

Devlin  and  Kerrigan  arrived.  They  were  joyful 
of  soul,  and  possessed,  besides,  the  additional  quali 
fication  of  good  records  in  the  Cob-dock  footraces. 

"  Boys,"  said  Dick,  as  he  pointed  up  the  street, 
"  see  that  long-geared  fellow  in  the  derby  hat  and 
short  overcoat,  near  the  tree?  That's  Ned  Brown. 
Get  him.  He'll  run,  but  get  him.  If  he  wants  to 
see  me,  bring  him  to  that  tree  over  there.  If  he 
don't,  tap  him  once  for  me  and  meet  us  at  the  sta 
tion — six  o'clock.  Understand?  No  mistake,  now. 
I'll  get  my  man,  and  that'll  finish  up.  Hurrah,  now. 
Come  on." 

Away  they  went  on  a  keen  run,  and  the  boys  ahead 
of  them  scattered.  Dick  had  chosen  Tom  Brandes, 
who  waited  for  him  behind  a  tree  across  the  street, 
then,  dodging  as  he  was  about  to  seize  him,  sped 
Diagonally  across  the  ball-ground  toward  the  side 
streets  and  his  home.  He  was  speedy,  and  Dick 
settled  down  to  a  long  chase. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

have   met   him?      Where?      What   is  Be 
like?    Is  he  doing  well?     You  have  been  here 
two  hours  and  only  just  tell  me." 

"  He  is  doing  very  well,"  said  Mr.  Breen,  dryly; 
»  very  well  indeed.  And  not  the  least  in  retaining 
your  interest  so  long.  Let's  see;  how  many  years 
have  sadly  flown?  " 


62  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

"  Please  be  serious,"  Mabel  Arthur  answered,  with 
a  hint  of  color  in  her  face ;  "  I  ought  to  explain.  I 
feel  responsible  for  his  leaving  home  and  school.  We 
were  only  children,  of  course.  He  left  under  a  cloud, 
and  Bessie  has  always  said  that  if  he  went  to  the 
bad  it  would  be  my  fault." 

In  any  face  but  that  of  Ensign  John  Breen,  the 
expression  might  have  been  a  sneer;  in  his  it  was 
but  a  lukewarm  smile. 

"  And  Bessie  is  interested?  "  he  asked. 

"  Of  course ;  why,  she  believed  in  him  when  I  did 
not.  Later,  it  all  came  out.  He  was  accused,  un 
justly,  of  stealing,  and  expelled  from  school.  His 
uncle  turned  him  out,  and  he  went  away.  I  have 
never  heard  from  him  since.  I  hope  he  is  success 
ful." 

"  He  is.  He  is  a  seaman-gunner  of  the  navy,  now 
in  the  Vermont  with  me.  He  is  one  of  the  finest 
products  of  the  apprentice  system  that  I've  seen — 
tall,  athletic,  refined  in  speech — educated,  I'm  told, 
almost  to  the  requirements  of  a  commission — hand 
some  in  a  way,  and  a  favorite  with  all  hands — and 
the  ladies." 

"  I'm  so  glad ;  and  where  is  he  now — in  Vermont, 
did  you  say  ?  " 

"  On  board  the  receiving-ship  Vermont;  but  in 
town  to-day." 

"In  town?     Here— in  Allville?" 

"  I  saw  him  two  minutes  before  I  called.  He  must 
have  come  up  on  the  train  ahead  of  me." 

"  Why  didn't  you  bring  him  with  you?  You  know 
I  would  like  to  see  him." 

"  You  forget  that  it  is  two  years  or  more  since 
you  expressed  the  desire ;  besides,  I  doubt  that  a  sailor 
would  care  to  make  social  visits  with  an  officer." 


THE  AGE  OF  IRON  6S 

"  I  understand  the  sarcasm ;  but  I  do  want  to  see 
him.  Where  was  he?  " 

"  He  was  very  pleasantly  occupied.  Had  I  been 
enjo}ring  myself  so  thoroughly,  I  would  hardly  have 
come  on  the  instant — even  had  you  sent  for  me." 

She  looked  searchingly  at  him,  with  inquiry  in  her 
face ;  and,  after  a  moment's  musing,  she  said,  "  But 
do  you  think  you  could  induce  him  to — " 

"  You  would  have  me  hunt  him  up,  and  extend 
your  invitation?  I  will  do  so,  provided  he  is  on  the 
street."  He  arose  as  he  spoke,  and  the  lines  of  his 
face  hardened  a  little. 

"  No,  no,  I  was  thoughtless.  You  are  an  officer — 
he  is  a  sailor." 

"  I  am  not  in  uniform." 

"  No — sit  down  again.  It  would  grate  and  harrow 
your  very  soul.  Men  may  forgive  anything  but  a 
humiliation.  I  will  write  to  him." 

"  I  should  think,"  he  said  dryly,  as  he  seated  him 
self,  "  that  a  letter  would  answer  every  purpose." 

"  Sometimes  I  hate  myself,"  she  said  slowly,  as 
she  studied  the  carpet.  "  Do  you  know  what  I  did? 
When  he  was  disgraced  and  expelled?  He  stood  out 
side  when  school  let  out,  and  he  looked  as  if  he  had 
not  a  friend  in  the  world ;  and  every  immaculate  one 
of  us  snubbed  him — except  Bessie.  I  shall  never 
forget  the  look  in  his  face  when  I  passed  him."  There 
were  decided  tears  in  her  eyes  now,  and  all  that 
Mr.  Breen  could  say,  in  a  rather  strained  accent  of 
voice,  was,  "  Bessie  has  a  good  heart — a  big,  gen 
erous  heart." 

"  Indeed  she  has.  And  she  was  so  indignant  when 
she  learned  it  all.  It  was  a  year  later,  for  I  went 
away  to  boarding-school,  and  we  did  not  become 
friends  until  I  got  back.  Neither  of  us  knew  at  the 


64  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

time  all  that  had  happened.  Why,  there  were  five 
boys,  all  larger  than  he,  who  set  upon  him,  and 
kicked  him  almost  unconscious;  and  he  was  brave, 
and  fought  them ;  but  there  were  so  many — the  great 
— big— brutes.  Poor  little  Dick  !  " 

"  Poor  little  Dick,"  repeated  the  ensign.  "  Poor, 
big,  broad-shouldered,  iron-fisted,  quicker-than-chain- 
lightning,  able-seaman  Halpin.  I  wouldn't  care  to  be 
one  of  the  five  when  he  meets  them.  The  other  day, 
I  was  told,  he  lifted  Big  Billson — two  hundred  pounds 
— right  off  his  feet  with  one  blow.  He's  a  terror, 
poor  little  Dick." 

She  turned  her  face  to  the  window,  as  if  to  hide 
the  inconsistent  smile  that  was  showing  there.  Then, 
with  an  exclamation  she  arose  to  her  feet. 

"Look Hook!"  she  said. 

Mr.  Breen  reached  her  side  at  a  bound.  A  wild- 
eyed  youth  with  his  hat  in  his  hand  had  rushed 
around  the  corner  of  the  house  from  the  back  yard, 
pursued  by  another,  who  caught  him  at  the  foot  of 
the  front  steps. 

"  There,"  said  the  ensign,  "  there  is  your  poor 
little  boy;  and  he  seems  to  be  upholding  his  later 
record." 

"Is  that  Dick  Halpin,  really?  Is  that  Dick?  Oh, 
isn't  he  changed?  Isn't  he  a  man!  But  what  is  he 
doing  ?  " 

She  looked  with  startled  eyes  at  the  pair  outside- 
They  were  both  panting,  and  one  cringed  before  the 
ether,  who  stood  erect,  holding  him  by  the  collar. 
Their  voices  could  be  plainly  heard — one  quavering 
with  fear,  the  other  angry  and  strong. 

"  You're  not  worth  it,  Tom  Brandes,"  Dick  was 
saying;  "  but  to  finish  the  job,  you've  got  to  take  it." 
Tom  lowered  his  head,  but  the  fist  did  not  fall. 


THE  AGE  OF  IRON  65 

Dick's  face  had  assumed  a  wondering,  puzzled  look 
as  he  glanced  up  and  down  the  street,  and  it  changed 
to  one  of  certainty  when  his  eyes  rested  on  the  front 
of  the  house  and  the  two  figures  in  the  window.  His 
grip  loosened  on  Tom's  collar;  the  young  man  shook 
himself  free,  and  fled  though  the  gate,  while  Dick, 
with  his  flushed  face  a  shade  redder,  and  an  almost 
defiant  light  in  his  eyes,  drew  himself  to  full  height 
and  brought  his  hand  to  his  cap  in  a  stiff"  salute. 
Then  he  turned,  passed  through  the  gate,  following 
Tom  down  the  street  at  a  walk.  The  ensign  had 
answered  the  salute,  but  Mabel  had  inclined  her  head 
and  smiled  before  it  was  given. 

"Was  that  one  of  the  five?"  asked  the  ensign, 
cautiously.  She  had  left  the  window  and  seated  her 
self  in  a  chair. 

"  Yes ;  I  know  them  all." 

"  Let  me  try  to  explain,"  he  said,  gently ;  "  he 
might  have  removed  his  cap,  of  course,  to  a  lady ;  but 
I  think  he  was  embarrassed,  and  on  the  spur  of  the 
moment  answered  with  the  service  salute." 

"  He  saluted  you ;  he  would  not  look  at  me.  I 
deserve  it,  I  know;  but  I  would  have  explained — I 
would  have  apologized.  It  was  due  him.  Now,  how 
can  I?  " 

"  Explain  through  Bessie — whatever  it  is.  They 
must  be  very  good  friends.  He  visited  there  to-day. 
I  saw  him — on  my  way  here." 

"  At  her  house,"  she  exclaimed,  standing  erect; 
"  then  that  is  why — what  she  meant — she  expected 
company — she  could  not  come  over  to-day." 

As  an  officer  and  a  gentleman  must  not  tell  all  he 
knows,  Mr.  Breen  may  be  excused  in  not  naming 
himself  as  the  company  expected.  It  might  have 
involved  explanations  of  the  shortness  of  his  stay. 


66 

"  She  must  have  known  all  about  him — all  this 
long  time,"  she  continued,  as  she  paced  the  floor. 
"  It  is  the  deceit — the  deceit  that  hurts.  She  was 
always  talking  about  him.  And  she  never  told  me. 
I  could  not  deceive  her  so.  Explain  through  her? 
Not  I.  But — I  am  a  woman  now,  and  it  is  due 
myself  to  atone  for  the  selfish  fault  of  a  child — in 
fche  only  way  that  is  left  me.  You  see  him  often. 
Will  you  say  to  him — " 

"  Pardon  me,"  he  interrupted.  "  No,  I  cannot. 
I  can  have  nothing  but  official  relations  with  him. 
Oh,  I  would  like  to  be  a  blue-jacket,"  he  burst  out 
vehemently,  "  a  nice  sailor-boy,  with  a  big  fist  and 
a  big  nerve  and  an  interesting  past." 

"Mr.  Breen,  what  do  you  mean?"  she  said 
slowly. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon — really,  I  do,"  he  said,  while 
his  face  softened.  "  I  ought  not  to  have  spoken  so, 
but,  you  see,  I  never  before  knew  a  sailor  so  far 
above  par.  I  believe  I'll  go;  and  not  come  again 
until  I  am  on  better  terms  with  myself — that  is,  if 
I  may." 

"  You  will  stay  right  here  and  have  dinner  with 
us.  Father  will  be  home  in  a  few  minutes.  No, 
you  must  stay — I  insist.  If  you  like  you  may  take 
me  to  the  theater  this  evening.  I  have  tickets." 


CHAPTER  XVII 

contractions    of   facial   muscles   known    as 
•»•      smiles,  grins,  sneers,  and  frowns  are  prompted 
by  emotions  varying  from  those  of  pleasure  to  those 
of  pain  and  anger.     Other  changes  of  feature,  such 
as  result  from  surprise,  grief,  or  fear,  though  equally 


THE  AGE  OF  IRON  67 

distinctive,  have  not  been  denominated.  A  few  of 
them  are  duplicated  in  the  faces  of  animals,  but  often 
from  a  contradictory  cause.  A  dog  and  a  hyena 
will  grin,  and  the  latter  will  laugh,  but  not  from  a 
sense  of  humor;  and  these  apparent  inconsistencies 
and  accidental  variations  in  cause  and  effect  have 
prevented  science  from  classifying  the  relations  be 
tween  the  emotions  and  the  muscles  as  an  exact  study. 
In  spite  of  this  difficulty,  however,  one  iconoclastic 
reasoner  has  attempted  to  trace  the  origin  of  the 
smile — which  alone  in  the  list  may  be  considered 
a  human  attribute — by  a  backward  flight  to  the  days 
when  our  ancestors  hung  by  their  tails  to  the  limbs 
of  trees  and  were  as  dexterous  with  their  toes  as  with 
their  fingers,  when  the  first  law  of  Nature  was  in 
supreme  force,  and  the  struggle  for  existence  so  bitter 
as  to  exclude  all  pleasure  except  that  of  eating — 
when,  other  things  being  equal,  the  individual  who 
first  got  his  or  her  mouth  open  was  the  one  to  close 
it  on  food.  Hence,  says  this  reasoner,  arose  the 
habit  of  opening  the  mouth  in  good  time;  and  the 
anticipation,  has  descended  through  the  ages  and  has 
produced,  through  evolution,  the  smile. 

Think  of  this,  young  mother.  Your  baby,  dim 
pling  under  your  caresses,  receives  the  impulse  from 
a  tailed  and  hairy  ancestor,  ravenously  parting  two 
rows  of  yellow  tushes  in  hungry  anticipation. 
Young  man,  as  you  bask  in  the  radiant  joy  and 
tenderness  beaming  through  the  beauty  in  your  sweet 
heart's  face,  remember  that  her  smile  is  an  ancestral 
trait  based  upon  the  empty  stomachs  of  her  progen 
itors.  Girls,  trust  him  not  because  he  merely  smiles. 
The  founders  of  his  family  raced  and  fought  for 
food,  and  survived  the  struggle  because  their  mouths 
were  large  and  their  jaws  strong.  That  is  why  he 


68  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

is  here  to-day,  to  feel  pleasure  in  your  favor,  and 
fondly  smile  upon  you. 

The  iconoclastic  reasoner  may  escape  a  violent 
death,  but  he  deserves  to  linger  on  in  a  loveless, 
smileless  existence.  For,  with  his  logic,  he  would 
rob  us  of  the  sweetest  favor  of  the  gods,  humanity's 
universal  flag-of-truce — welcome  index  of  needful, 
though  temporary,  armistice  in  the  never  ending  war 
fare  of  individuals.  He  would  take  away  the  en 
trancing  mystery  of  the  dearest,  most  delightful  of 
all  life's  delusions, — the  smile  of  woman, — which,  even 
though  we  know  that  it  is  often  a  masked  battery, 
we  would  not  do  without.  It  can  bless  us  or  blight 
us,  but  we  are  free  agents  with  power  of  volition. 
We  may  accept  or  reject,  risk  or  run;  and  woman's 
radiant  smile,  like  other  radiant  energy,  decreases 
in  force  as  the  square  of  the  distance. 

Mabel  Arthur  had  again  smiled  at  Dick,  and  the 
effect  was  revolutionary.  In  his  hard  masculine  life 
the  affections  had  not  been  largely  developed.  A 
warm  and  sincere  friendship  between  himself  and 
Bronson  had  found  expression  only  in  an  absence  of 
harsh  words  in  their  intercourse,  a  careless  nod  or 
cheery  joke  at  parting,  and  a  hearty  handshake  when 
they  met  again.  Toward  Bessie  there  had  remained 
a  kindly  feeling  of  gratitude,  which  had  led  him  to 
seek  her — for  further  favors — on  coming  home.  His 
weak-natured  aunt  had  never  been  able  to  impress 
him  strongly,  and  he  stood  now,  as  in  his  childhood, 
nearly  alone  in  the  world.  It  was  due,  perhaps,  to 
this  lack  of  diverting  affections  that  the  boyish  ad 
miration  and  homage  inspired  by  Mabel,  as  a  school 
miss,  had  grown  latently,  as  he  approached  manhood, 
into  a  feeling  of  intensity  past  his  own  power  of 
analysis.  He  was  dimly  conscious  of  its  growth  and 


THE  AGE  OF  IRON  69 

grip  on  his  soul  when  Bessie  had  teased  him,  and 
later  had  awakened  more  fully  to  a  conception  of 
its  strength  when  he  had  seen  his  officer  making  for 
her  door.  Yet  his  consequent  ill-humor  on  this  occa 
sion  arose  from  a  jealousy  which  he  might  have 
classed  with  the  feeling  often  aroused  in  him  when 
he  had  looked  through  a  skylight  at  the  ward-room 
dinner  and  had  then  gone  forward  to  a  salt-beef 
ration.  But  the  sight  of  her,  standing  at  the  window 
in  all  her  beauty  of  figure  and  face, — the  startled 
dark  eyes  shining  with  the  tears  of  the  moment  before, 
the  crown  of  glossy  hair,  the  tinted  cheek  and  full 
white  throat,  the  graceful  inclining  of  her  head  and 
shoulders,  and  the  tremulous,  tentative  parting  of 
her  lips  that  ripened,  as  he  looked,  to  a  bewildering 
smile  of  frank  recognition, — aroused  in  the  sailor  a 
knowledge  of  himself. 

But  the  knowledge  came  with  a  shock,  and  his  in 
voluntary  attitude  partook  of  the  bitter  defiance  of 
his  last  meeting  with  her.  He  had  not  seen  the 
change  in  her  face  which  had  prompted  Mr.  Breen 
to  a  chivalrous  defense  of  his  ungraciousness,  and  he 
went  down  the  street  with  wildly  beating  heart  and 
trembling  knee-joints,  wrestling  with  the  one  phase 
of  the  situation  that  he  could  grasp, — she  had  smiled 
on  him,  and  greeted  him  from  the  window  of  her 
home.  For  the  gentleman  at  her  side — the  commis 
sioned  officer — he  cared  nothing  at  present.  Mabel 
had  smiled  on  him,  and  by  that  smile  had  lifted  him 
higher  in  his  self-estimation  than  would  an  appoint 
ment  to  Annapolis. 

At  the  next  corner  he  came  to  earth.  He  heard 
distant  yells  over  the  house-tops,  and  the  rousing 
chorus  of  a  sea  song  that  he  knew.  But  that  which 
had  come  to  him  prevented  the  words  that  would 


70  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

surely  have  arisen  to  his  lips  without  it,  and  yet 
accentuated  the  sickening  disgust  he  now  felt  for  the 
crowd  with  which  he  was  identified,  and  for  the  mis 
sion  which  had  brought  them  to  this  peaceful  town. 
What  would  she  think  of  him  when  it  all  came  out? 
Yet  she  herself  had  once  asked  him  to  fight,  and 
there  was  comfort  in  the  thought. 

He  could  not  mix  with  that  crowd  now — not  yet, 
— so  he  doubled  around  the  block  and  out  across  the 
ball-ground,  glad  to  find  it  vacant,  and  sat  down  on 
a  rock  at  the  side  of  the  country  road,  where  he 
overhauled  his  soul,  calling  back  the  past,  planning 
the  future,  and  often  shutting  his  eyes  to  see  again 
the  face  at  the  window.  His  time  in  the  navy  would 
expire  in  a  few  months ;  he  would  be  of  age,  he  could 
obtain  the  money  that  his  mother  had  left  him,  and 
meet  Mabel  Arthur  by  right  as  the  social  equal  of 
any  ensign  in  the  American  navy. 

Even  a  sailor  in  love,  seasoned  as  he  may  be  against 
exposure  and  warmed  by  the  glow  in  his  breast,  may 
become  chilled  if  he  sits  long  on  a  cold  rock,  especially 
if  the  uniform  of  the  day  is  "  blue  without  peacoats." 
Yet  the  distant  city-hall  clock  had  struck  seven  and 
the  winter  cold  had  reached  his  bones  before  he  was 
reminded  that  at  six  he  was  to  meet  the  boys  at  the 
station. 

"  Hope  they  knew  enough  to  take  the  train,"  he 
muttered  as  he  pulled  himself  together  and  started 
stiffly  through  the  darkness.  Under  the  first  street 
light  he  studied  his  time-table  and  found  that  the 
next  train  for  the  city  would  pass  through  at 
nine  o'clock.  "  Plenty  of  time,"  he  said ;  "  it's  like 
pulling  teeth  to  shake  hands  with  the  old  man;  but 
Aunt  Mollie  wouldn't  forgive  me  if  I  missed  see 
ing  her." 


THE  AGE  OF  IRON  71 

He  went  down  the  street,  past  the  schoolhouse, 
and,  a  few  blocks  further,  crossed  over  to  enter  the 
street  on  which  stood  his  uncle's  house.  But  in  the 
middle  of  the  street  he  stopped.  He  could  look 
straight  down  to  the  business  section  of  the  town, 
brightly  illuminated  by  the  newly  installed  arc  lights 
overhead.  Men  were  running  about  and  an  occa 
sional  shout  reached  his  ears.  He  turned,  and  hur 
ried  on,  for  he  could  distinguish,  here  and  there, 
among  the  running  men,  the  uniformed  figure  of  a 
shipmate.  Two  men  coming  toward  him  scurried 
across  the  street  when  they  saw  him  under  a  street 
lamp,  and  Dick  heard  one  say,  "  There's  another  of 
'em."  Both  looked  worse  for  wear. 

He  passed  groups  on  the  corners,  and  was  stared 
at  and  given  room.  Uncomplimentary  remarks  and 
epithets  came  from  crowded  doorways,  and  a  woman 
screamed  after  him,  "  Why  don't  you  git  out  o'  this 
town,  you  miserable  rowdy?  "  Paying  no  attention, 
he  hurried  on,  passing  the  door  of  the  police  station 
where  three  middle-aged  men  in  shirt-sleeves  and  blue 
trousers  with  thin  white  stripes  were  expostulating 
with  an  older  and  grayer  man  in  the  uniform  of  a 
police  captain.  On  the  next  street,  where  stood  the 
Salvation  Army  barracks  and  brightly  lighted  the 
ater,  was  the  center  of  excitement.  Here  he  found 
Casey  in  the  middle  of  the  street,  swinging  an  agon 
ized  pug  dog  around  by  its  chain  as  a  sailor  would 
heave  the  lead,  calling  out,  "  Watch,  ho,  watch," 
with  each  revolution  of  the  dog,  and  as  the  poor  brute 
landed,  "  By  the  mark  ten,"  "  A  quarter  nine,"  or 
any  mark  or  deep  of  the  lead-line  that  came  to  his 
mind.  The  mistress  of  the  dog  wept  in  a  doorway, 
and  O'Toole,  flourishing  a  locust  club,  was  threaten 
ing  Casey  with  mock  arrest  and  dodging  the  dog.  In 


72  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

front  of  the  barracks  were  the  others,  doing  their 
best  to  break  up  an  outdoor  service  of  the  Salva 
tionists.  Billson,  an  expert  bugler,  had  captured  a 
cornet,  and  Scanlon  a  drum.  The  street  was  crowded 
with  awestruck  boys,  and  the  sidewalks  with  well- 
dressed,  respectable  folk,  most  of  them  bound  for  the 
theater,  and  some  of  whom  were  laughing  at  the  spec 
tacle  ;  but  Morrisey,  the  tutelary  genius  of  it  all,  was 
not  in  evidence. 

CHAPTER  XVIII 

' '  T  T  ELL  to  pay  and  no  pitch  hot,"  growled  Dick 

A  J.  as  he  faced  Casey.  "  Drop  it,  Casey,"  he 
said,  "  belay  that.  Let  the  dog  go." 

"  Hooray,"  yelled  Casey,  obeying  the  order — the 
dog  landed  near  its  owner — and  throwing  his  arms 
around  Dick's  neck.  "  Here  he  is.  Where  ye  been, 
me  j  ewel  ?  Did  they  kill  ye  at  all  ?  " 

"  No  sound,  no  ground,  no  bottom  to  be  found, 
with  the  long  pitch-pine  pike-pole,  Daddy,"  howled 
Shannon,  vaulting  between  them  on  the  end  of  a  long 
pole.  "  Can  ye  take  soundin's  on  the  Erie,  Casey? 
This  way.".  He  stabbed  the  pavement.  "  No  sound, 
no  ground — hello,  Dick.  Here's  Dick." 

They  seized  Dick  by  the  shoulders  and  pushed 
him,  unresisting,  over  toward  the  others,  while 
O'Toole  prodded  them  with  the  club. 

"  Stop  this,"  he  yelled,  shaking  himself  free. 
"  Stop  it,  or  you'll  get  the  worst  of  it.  Come  on, 
now,  down  to  the  station — all  of  you."  They  paid 
no  attention.  Dick  retreated  to  the  sidewalk  and 
a  dignified  old  gentleman  tapped  him  on  the  shoulder. 
He  knew  him.  It  was  Mr.  Arthur — Mabel's  father. 

"  You  appear  to  be  sober,  young  man,"  he  said. 


THE  AGE  OF  IRON  73 

**  If  you  can  control  those  fellows  and  induce  them 
to  leave  town,  do  so;  if  not,  as  mayor  of  the  town, 
I  shall  call  out  the  firemen.  They  can  attend  to 
them  if  the  police  cannot." 

"  Excuse  me,  sir,"  answered  Dick  in  some  embar 
rassment — for  the  halo  of  Mabel's  divinity  hung  over 
her  father ;  "  but  if  you  do,  there  will  only  be  some 
heads  to  mend.  I  can't  control  them  now — not  yet. 
They're  three-sheets-in-the-wind  and  wouldn't  take 
orders  from  an  admiral.  But  wait  a  little  and  I'll 
get  them  away." 

"  Chief,"  called  the  old  gentleman  to  the  gray- 
haired  police  captain,  who  stood  in  the  crowd,  "  call 
out  all  the  companies  and  send  the  foremen  to  me." 

Three  minutes  later,  with  a  clanging  of  bells  and 
scattering  of  boys,  two  engines,  two  hose-carts,  and 
two  hook-and-ladder  trucks  clattered  up  to  the 
corner  from  different  directions,  and  Dick,  expostu 
lating  with  his  shipmates,  who  were  now  forming 
for  parade,  observed  two  six-foot  foremen,  in  fire 
helmets  and  waterproof  coats,  hastening  toward  the 
mayor.  He  also  joined  him. 

"  Now  look  here,  sir,"  he  said,  excitedly ;  "  there's 
no  use  in  this.  They'll  resent  dictation  and  some 
one  will  get  hurt  if  you  use  force  with  them.  I  can 
keep  them  from  doing  any  harm.  Leave  it  to  me, 
and  I'll  march  them  to  the  s'.ation." 

The  mayor  regarded  him  seriously,  as  though  dis 
posed  to  believe  him;  but  another  man,  pushing 
through  the  crowd,  interrupted  him  just  as  he  was 
about  to  speak. 

"What's  up,  Mr.  Arthur?"  he  asked.  "Want 
to  sprinkle  'em  ?  " 

"  Why,  yes,  Jenkins,  I  had  thought  of  it — or  else, 
throwing  them  out  of  town  by  force.  I  called  your 


74  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

men,  but  as  chief  you  are  entitled  to  direct.  This 
young  man  advises  delay — thinks  he  can  manage 
them." 

"  Manage  nothing,"  answered  the  other,  regarding 
Dick  contemptuously.  "  I'll  give  'em  a  bath  for  the 
fun  of  it,  and  drive  'em  afterward." 

"  Suit  yourself,  Jenkins." 

"  All  right,"  said  Dick,  angrily.  "  You'll  be  sorry 
for  it,  I  promise  you.  I'll  stand  by  my  mates." 

He  hurried  to  them  where  they  were  regarding  with 
mild  interest  the  preparations  for  their  undoing. 
They  seemed  to  have  forgotten  their  idea  of  parade. 

"  Break — scatter — clear  out,"  yelled  Dick ; 
"  they're  going  to  turn  the  water  on  you." 

"  Going  to  what?  "  they  answered  in  chorus.  "  Go 
ing  to  turn  water  on  us?  Are  we  afire?  Going  to 
wash  us?  Why  not  holystone  us?  Billson,  shut  off 
steam,  there ;  silence  that  fog-horn  o'  yours.  Scan- 
Ion,  beat  to  quarters  !  Repel  boarders !  All  hands 
repel  boarders !  Keegan,  belay.  Stand  by  for  a 
rakin'  fire  from  forrard." 

Even  as  they  declaimed  the  two  companies  were 
rushing  their  engines  and  hose-carts  in  opposite  direc 
tions  to  the  hydrants  at  the  next  corners,  the  carts 
paying  out  hose  as  they  went.  The  hook-and-ladder 
men  remained  by  their  trucks.  Two  pipe-men  at  each 
hose  coupled  on  the  heavy  brass  nozzles,  waited  until 
the  engines  whistled,  and  sang  out  in  answer.  Men 
passed  the  word  along  the  two  lines  and  water  came 
• — a  deluge  of  it,  in  two  solid  streams,  which  struck 
the  procrastinating  blue-jackets  and  knocked  most  of 
them  down,  while  the  crowd  cheered. 

Although  a  wetting  has  little  effect  on  the  health 
of  a  sailor,  it  invariably  adds  to  his  discomfort  and 
combativeness.  They  arose,  much  soberer  than  when 


THE  AGE  OF  IRON  75 

they  fell,  charged  on  the  nearest  nozzle  and  wrestecl 
it  from  the  firemen,  who  fled,  followed  by  the  stream, 
which,  first  circling  overhead,  generously  soaked  the 
spectators  on  the  sidewalk.  Leaving  two  in  charge 
of  the  first  nozzle,  they  charged  on  and  captured  the 
second,  the  pipe-men  speeding  out  of  range  like  the 
others.  Then,  while  the  firemen,  who  had  so  far  re 
garded  the  matter  as  an  enjoyable  frolic,  were 
reorganizing  with  their  oncoming  reinforcements, — 
which  included  the  three  policemen, — the  two  streams 
were  turned  on  the  spectators,  changing  their  derisive 
laughter  to  cries  of  anger,  and  practically  washing" 
the  street  clear  of  them. 

But  the  firemen,  dead  in  earnest  now,  were  coming 
back,  nearly  two  dozen  strong,  armed  with  spanners,, 
hooks,  fire-axes,  spare  nozzles,  and  trumpets.  They 
had  thrown  off  their  cumbersome  water-proof  coats, 
and,  drenched  to  the  skin,  advanced  inch  by  inch 
against  the  two  streams  which  the  yelling  sailors  held 
at  their  breasts.  Then  they  deployed  to  the  right 
and  left,  flanked  and  disconcerted  the  moist  battery, 
and  advanced  more  rapidly  to  what  promised  to  be 
a  bloody  conflict,  disastrous  for  the  sailors.  To  add 
to  this  promise,  there  were,  coming  back  from  the 
rear,  wet  and  angry  citizens,  who  had  secured  sticks 
and  clubs  ranging  in  size  from  canes  to  cart-stakes ;. 
but,  in  fact,  only  one  serious  conflict  occurred. 

It  was  between  a  sailor  and  two  big  hook-and- 
ladder  men,  who  had  advanced  with  fire-hooks,  the 
long  points  and  barbs  of  which  make  them  as  wicked 
weapons  as  boarding-pikes,  but  which,  to  their  credit, 
they  used  as  clubs.  The  curriculum  of  navy-drill 
provided  for  this  warfare,  and  a  well-trained  blue 
jacket  with  a  club  in  his  hands  has  the  same  advan 
tage  that  a  skilled  fencer  has  with  the  sword.  Un- 


76  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

touched  by  the  lunging  strokes  of  his  opponents,  the 
sailor  whirled  his  light,  hardwood  foil, — a  con 
demned  billiard  cue, — punched,  parried,  and  cut  with 
it,  but  little  by  little  was  forced  backward,  away 
from  his  friends  and  into  the  crowd  of  indignant 
townspeople. 

He  would  not  have  fought  thus  unequally  had  not 
his  shipmates  been  interfered  with.  At  the  beginning 
of  it,  three  men  had  run  along  the  wet  sidewalk, 
turned  into  the  street,  and  hastened  past  the  fighters 
toward  the  groups  at  the  nozzles,  as  the  place  of 
most  ominous  trouble.  Two  were  the  mayor  and  chief 
of  the  fire  department.  They  waved  and  ordered  the 
firemen  back,  and  the  other,  a  young  and  well-dressed 
man,  sprang  among  the  sailors,  shouting: — 

"  Stop  this,  men.  Stop  it  at  once.  I  am  an  officer. 
Lower  those  nozzles — down  to  the  ground.  Stand  on 
them.  Instantly.  Do  you  hear  me?  Turn  off  your 
water,  gentlemen,"  he  called  to  the  others ;  "  my  side 
will  obey." 

They  had  obeyed  him.  Some  recognized  Mr. 
Breen,  and  all  knew  the  unmistakable  accent  of  an 
officer  accustomed  to  authority.  They  saluted  and 
answered  respectfully.  Shouts  were  passed  around 
the  corners,  and  soon  the  water  ceased  to  flow.  "  Fall 
in  over  here  at  the  curb,"  ordered  Mr.  Breen,  sternly, 
*'  and  give  an  account  of  yourselves." 

"  Can't  we  help  Halpin,  sir?  "  asked  Casey,  anx 
iously,  as  he  fitted  the  grommet  to  his  cap.  "  He's 
gittin'  killed  over  yonder." 

Mr.  Breen  turned  and  looked,  just  in  time  to  see 
the  fighting  sailor  struck  on  the  forehead  with  a  heavy 
stone  flung  from  across  the  street.  Flourishing  the 
half  of  his  broken  stick,  he  staggered  and  fell.  The 
officer  hurried  over,  followed  by  the  sailors,  but  before 


THE  AGE  OF  IRON  77 

they  reached  the  prostrate  figure  Mabel  Arthur  was 
bending  over  it. 

CHAPTER  XIX 

"TV/TABEL— Miss     Arthur,"     said     the     officer, 

1  vJ-  gently,  as  he  touched  her  arm ;  "  here  is 
your  father." 

Mr.  Arthur  almost  dragged  her  to  her  feet  and 
back  through  the  crowd,  scolding  her  in  a  most 
shocked  and  fatherly  manner. 

"Why  are  you  here?  Going  to  the  theater  with 
Mr.  Breen?  Um-humph.  Might  better  have  remained 
at  home  on  this  occasion,  with  the  streets  full  of 
rioters.  I  haven't  dared  go  to  dinner." 

"  But,  father,"  she  stammered,  "  it  is  the  boy — 
Dick  Halpin;  you  know — you  remember.  The  boy 
who  went  away,  and — oh,  father,  come  back.  I  want 
to  be  sure  that  he  is  not  seriously  injured." 

Her  father  humored  her,  and  the  crowd  parted 
for  them  to  make  their  way  back.  Dick  was  hurt, 
but  not  seriously.  He  was  on  his  feet,  shaking  his 
head  in  quick  jerks  to  prevent  the  blood  from  running 
into  his  eyes.  Wet,  muddy,  and  bleeding,  with  his 
long  hair  disheveled  and  his  face  contracted  in  pain, 
he  was  not  an  agreeable  sight,  and  Mabel  shuddered. 
He  was  facing  partly  away  and  could  not  see  her. 
Mr.  Breen  held  him  by  one  arm  and  Shannon  by  the 
other,  not  to  support,  but  to  curb  him;  for  he  was 
muttering  to  himself  and  was  not  yet  responsible. 

"  It  was  a  stone,  neighbor,"  said  one  of  the  fire 
men  to  him,  "  not  us.  We  couldn't  touch  you.  I'm 
sorry  now,  old  man,  and  here's  my  hand  on  it.  I 
know  a  good  man  when  I  see  him.  We  don't  throw 
stones — not  us." 


78  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

"  Who  was  it?  "  asked  Dick,  weakly.  "  Who  hit 
me?" 

"  Never  mind  who  it  was,  Halpin,"  said  Mr.  Breen, 
sternly.  "  You  have  disgraced  yourself  and  the 
service  enough  as  it  is." 

They  faced  him  the  other  way,  and  Dick  saw 
Mabel — saw  her  turn  from  him  with  an  expression 
in  her  face  which  somewhat  resembled  the  look  of 
terror  and  horror  it  had  held  on  that  last  day  in 
school. 

"  Fall  in  here,  men,"  called  Mr.  Breen.  "  Double 
column  with  Halpin  between  you.  Webster,  I  know 
you;  take  my  place.  I  hold  you  and  Shannon  re 
sponsible  for  his  safe  delivery  on  board  the  Vermont. 
Halpin,  you  are  under  arrest.  Make  way  there, 
please.  Forward — march." 

With  Shannon  and  Webster  holding  him  tightly, 
and  his  bodyguard  changed  to  a  guard  of  arrest,  Dick 
was  marched  through  the  streets  toward  the  station. 
But  Shannon  and  Webster  need  not  have  held  him. 
He  was  tractable  and  harmless,  for  the  transient 
light  of  Mabel  Arthur's  smile  had  gone  from  his  soul. 

The  ensign  hastened  after,  and  the  crowd  grad 
ually  dispersed,  except  for  a  small  contingent  that 
jeered  the  sailors  on  their  way.  On  the  station  plat 
form,  where  Mr.  Breen  halted  them  to  wait  for  the 
train,  Morrisey  appeared,  with  his  silk  hat  on  an 
even  keel — sober-faced  and  anxious  in  manner. 

"  I  know  ye're  an  officer,  sir,"  he  said  to  the  en 
sign,  saluting  him  in  the  way  that  only  man-of-war's 
men  acquire.  "  I'm  Tim  Morrisey,  late  quarter 
master  of  the  Kearsarge,  and  I  want  to  say  a  word 
for  the  boys,  and  Dick  there.  Dick's  a  good  lad,  as 
ye  must  know,  sir,  and  all  he  wanted  was  to  do  up 
the  gang  o'  school  bullies  that  killed  him  once,  and 


THE  AGE  OF  IRON  79 

he  brought  his  mates  to  help  him.  But  he  didn't  get 
'em  full.  I  did  that,  not  knowin'  how  far  they'd  go ; 
but  Dick's  innocent  of  it.  Why,  ye  can  see,  sir,  that 
Dick  hasn't  been  drinkin'.  Plase  be  aisy  on  'em,  sir. 
Now,  will  ye  sind  Dick  over  to  my  hotel  under  guard, 
sir,  and  I'll  clane  him  up,  so  he  can  go  aboard  pre- 
sintable  like,  and  not  fall  foul  o'  the  master-at- 
arms  ?  " 

During  part  of  this  discourse  Mr.  Breen  had  been 
compelled  to  smile,  which  had  encouraged  Morrisey 
to  continue. 

"  I  will  consider  your  protest,"  he  answered ;  "  that 
is  all  I  can  say." 

Morrisey  drew  over  toward  the  boys,  not  to  talk, — 
he  knew  better, — but  to  encourage  them  by  his  pres 
ence  and  sympathy.  They  were  quiet  and  sober  now, 
and  stood  shivering  in  their  wet  clothing.  Dick, 
smeared  with  blood,  was  seated  on  a  bench  with  his 
chin  in  his  hand  and  eyes  on  the  platform. 

"  Webster — Shannon,"  said  Mr.  Breen,  "  take 
Halpin  over  with  this  man  and  attend  to  his  wants. 
Halpin,  will  you  go  on  board  to-night  if  I  give  you 
your  liberty?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  Dick,  rising  to  his  feet  and 
saluting. 

"  And  the  rest  of  you.  Do  you  all  belong  to  the 
receiving-ship  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,"  they  answered ;  "  all  of  us — we'll  go 
aboard,  sir — we  want  dry  clothes." 

"  Very  well,  go  along.  You  need  not  report  to 
the  executive  officer,  Halpin.  I  will  attend  to  your 
case  myself  when  I  come  on  board." 

"  Thank  ye,  sir,"  said  Morrisey ;  "  I  consider  this 
a  personal  favor,  sir." 

Mr.  Breen  went  back  to  spend  the  evening  at  the 


80  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

Arthurs'.  He  had  managed  his  share  of  the  proceed 
ings  without  getting  wet,  and  was  still  a  well- 
groomed,  presentable  young  man. 

Next  morning  the  baker's  dozen  of  sailors  intro 
duced  themselves  to  the  Vermont's  surgeon  in  the 
sick-bay,  all  suffering  from  splitting  headaches. 
But  Dick's  headache  was  hardest  to  cure,  for  he  had 
barely  escaped  brain  concussion.  Truly,  thirteen  is 
an  unlucky  number. 

CHAPTER  XX 

ONLY  by  friction  with  his  fellows  and  by  the  de 
velopment  within  him  of  instincts  based  upon 
ancestral  experience  does  man  acquire  a  conscience. 
Continuing  on  from  the  embryonic  reproduction  of 
organic  change  of  the  lower  to  the  higher  types,  the 
young  of  the  human  species  takes  up  at  birth  the 
progress  of  the  ape-like  men,  and — in  the  case  of  the 
male — lives  through  every  chapter  of  human  history. 
The  small  boy  in  his  primal  impulses  is  as  savage  as 
his  prototype  of  the  jungle.  He  is  afraid  of  the 
dark,  he  is  afraid  of  the  storm,  and  whimpers  at  the 
sound  of  thunder.  In  this,  of  course,  he  is  worthy  of 
pity  and  comforting  words ;  but,  when  he  has  con 
quered  his  cowardice  to  the  point  where  he  dares 
pounce  upon  a  weaker  creature,  he  will  torture  it 
mercilessly.  His  occasional  combats  with  his  fellows 
are  always  short — a  few  blows  are  given,  and  one 
flees,  pursued  by  the  other,  courageous  because  con 
fident.  But  should  the  vanquished,  with  blind  rage 
serving  for  courage,  return  to  battle,  the  flight  will 
be  reversed. 

Epitomizing  as  he  does  the  infancy  of  the  race,  a 
boy's  attitude  toward  the  world  is  antagonistic.  Yet 


THE  AGE  OF  IRON  81 

there  are  times  during  his  passage  through  the 
Neolithic  Period  when  he  would  rather  beat  you  at 
marbles  than  frighten  you  with  a  pistol.  Later  on 
he  prefers  the  latter.  Then  there  are  times  when 
nothing  suits  him  but  a  bow  and  arrow, — times  when 
he  will  hide  for  days  in  a  cave  which  he  has  found  or 
dug  for  himself  like  his  cave-dwelling  ancestry,  when 
he  will  practice  strenuously  at  hatchet-throwing, 
knife-throwing,  spear-throwing,  and  is  joyful  of  soul 
when  he  can  break  a  window  with  a  stone  from  his 
sling.  Banded  with  others  he  will  often  cruelly  mal 
treat  a  weaker  boy — a  captive — from  another  neigh 
borhood,  and  his  hunting  games — survivals  of  the 
chase — sometimes  end  fatally  to  the  losers.  He  is  a 
robber  for  the  love  of  the  sport.  But  in  time — 
somewhere  between  the  ages  of  fifteen  and  twenty- 
one — these  primitive  attributes,  under  the  influence 
of  punishment,  reward,  and  good  example,  may  be 
civilized  out  of  him,  and  he  becomes  fit  for  acquaint 
anceship.  But  he  never  ceases  to  lie. 

The  development  of  the  girl  differs  slightly  from 
that  of  the  boy.  Very  early — perhaps  in  the  prenatal 
life — she  loses  the  killing  impulse,  and  only  resumes 
it  under  later  stress  of  jealousy  or  motherhood. 
Leaving  her  Paleolithic  brother  to  work  out  his  own 
salvation  in  his  own  way,  the  baby  girl  leaps  at  once 
into  the  pseudo-civilization  of  the  Middle  Ages, 
with  its  emotionalism,  its  enthusiasm,  and  its  super- 
naturalism — which  existed  in  women  before  the 
Middle  Ages  were  dreamt  of.  She  is  a  monitor  and 
a  preacher  from  promptings  within  herself,  and 
when  she  has  learned  to  talk  she  tells  her  small 
brother  what  he  should  and  should  not  do — not  be 
cause  she  knows,  but  because  she  feels.  She  remains 
in  the  Middle  Ages  while  she  lives,  a  preacher,  a 


82  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

monitor,  a  dictator.  She  is  often  no  more  than  a 
nagging  scold,  but  on  the  whole  her  life  is  cleaner, 
brighter,  and  more  moral  than  that  of  her  brother. 
Once  past  the  sugar-bowl  period,  her  pilfering  pro 
pensities  are  easily  dropped — or  suppressed  until 
poverty  or  kleptomania  brings  them  to  the  surface; 
but  her  cowardice,  nourished  and  conserved  by  phys 
ical  weakness,  often  remains  with  her  to  the  end,  and 
in  mendacity,  compelled  by  the  restrictions  placed 
upon  her  by  society,  she  outclasses  her  brother.  A 
man  is  by  nature  a  liar  from  the  cradle  to  the  grave. 
A  woman  is  more — she  is  an  actress. 

And  this  brings  us  to  the  object  of  this  analysis. 
We  know  that  Dick  Halpin  has  painfully  struggled 
from  the  Age  of  Stone  into  the  Age  of  Iron.  We 
must  also  know  that  Bessie  Fleming — sweet,  and 
"wholesome,  and  lovable — is  a  fibber.  As  to  Mabel 
Arthur,  we  can  only  infer;  the  evidence  is  not 
clear. 

On  the  following  Sunday  the  two  girls,  each  suita 
bly  arrayed,  went  to  church,  and  when  the  service 
was  over,  met  in  the  vestibule.  After  kisses  and  com 
pliments  they  went  out  together,  and  Bessie  said 
effusively : — 

"  But  where  have  you  kept  yourself,  dear.  Why, 
I  haven't  seen  you  since  before  the  riot.  Wasn't  it 
dreadful?" 

"  Wasn't  it  ?  I  have  been  ill  all  the  week,"  an 
swered  Mabel.  "  I  only  got  out  to-day." 

"Weren't  they  horrid?  They  almost  killed  poor 
Dicky;  they  swung  him  around  by  his  chain  and  he 
hasn't  been  himself  at  all  since  then.  And,  do  you 
know,  it  was  Dick  Halpin — our  Dick,  for  whom  we 
named  him — who  rescued  Dicky.  Wasn't  it  nice? 
Such  a  coincidence,  too." 


THE  AGE  OF  IRON  83 

"  Did  he  ?  I  understood  that  he  was  the  ring 
leader — the  master  spirit." 

"  Not  at  all,  Mabel.  You  know  I  always  stood 
up  for  Dick,  and  always  will.  He  was  quelling  the 
riot  all  the  time." 

"  I  thought  Mr.  Breen  did  that — he,  and  father, 
and  the  firemen." 

"  But  Dick  was  first.  I  was  standing  in  a  door 
way — I  got  dreadfully  wet — and  saw  it  all.  I  saw 
you,  Mabel.  Did  you  see  Dick?  Isn't  he  big,  and 
strong,  and  handsome?  " 

"  Handsome?  "  murmured  Mabel,  with  a  sweet  and 
pleasant  drawl  in  her  voice ;  "  I  don't  know.  I  did 
not  observe  him  closely ;  but  I  think  that  Mr.  Breen 
is  rather  nice  looking." 

"Do  you?  Now,  I  think  Dick  is  much  hand 
somer.  I  suppose  you  heard  how  he  thrashed  those 
boys  who  treated  him  so  cruelly." 

"  I  did  hear  something ;  but,  you  know,  I  am  not 
greatly  interested  in  his  exploits." 

"No?  But  he  did,  Mabel — all  but  one,  who  ran 
away.  Anna  was  there  and  saw  it  all.  Wasn't  it 
poetic  justice — that  he  should  come  back  so  big,  and 
brave,  and  strong?  And  he  was  so  small  and  helpless 
when  they  ill-treated  him.  You  know  how  I  felt.  I 
believe  I  was  the  only  friend  he  had  in  the  whole 
world." 

"  Well,  I  felt  at  the  time,  and  feel  still,  that  I  had 
done  my  duty  when  I  exonerated  him.  George  was 
only  a  foolish  boy,  you  know.  Of  course,  I  can 
understand  that  it  is  different  with  you.  Mr.  Breen 
said — you  know  he  called  that  day  and  spent  the 
evening  with  us — well,  Mr.  Breen  said  he  was  a 
notorious  fighter,  always  in  trouble." 

Bessie's  small  hand  opened  spasmodically,  much 


84  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

as  a  cat  shows  her  claws ;  but  it  was  gloved,  and 
Mabel  smiled,  sweetly  and  fearlessly. 

"  Did  he  really  call  on  you,  Mabel?  "  asked  Bessie. 
"  How  nice ;  he  called  at  our  house,  too ;  but  Dick 
was  there  and  he  went  away — he  went  right  away. 
I  was  surprised.  And  so  he  called  on  you?  " 

"  He  had  something  to  say  to  me,"  replied 
Mabel,  dreamily.  "  I  suppose  that  he  called  to  say 
it." 

Bessie's  face  paled  a  little,  and  her  eyes  opened 
wide,  but  she  made  no  direct  inquiry  as  to  what 
Mr.  Breen  had  to  say.  After  a  moment's  silence 
she  said: — 

"  I  don't  think  that  Mr.  Breen  is  at  all  reliable. 
I  think  he  is  very  much  of  a  flirt — so  insincere  and 
inconsistent.  Dick  is  different.  I  received  a  lovely 
letter  from  him  last  evening.  Shall  I  show  it  to  you, 
Mabel?  " 

She  drew  forth  a  letter  which  Mabel  took,  lan 
guidly,  and  experiencing  a  little  difficulty  in  reaching 
in  between  the  edges  of  the  envelope,  removed  her 
left  glove.  She  was  not  left-handed,  but  by  remov 
ing  her  right  glove  she  could  not  have  displaj^ed  a 
large  diamond  on  the  third  finger  of  her  left  hand. 

"  Oh,  Mabel,"  exclaimed  Bessie,  as  she  seized  the 
hand,  "  isn't  it  beautiful?  "  Her  cheek  was  whiter 
and  her  lips  twitched. 

"Yes,  isn't  it?  "  responded  Mabel,  as  she  pressed 
the  gem  to  her  lips.  "  It  came  last  evening,  like  your 
letter,  from  New  York.  Let's  see  what  your  gladi 
ator  says. 

"  '  My  dear  friend  Bessie,'  she  read — "  he  writes 
a  good  hand,  doesn't  he,  Bessie,  for  a  common  sailor 
— '  My  dear  friend  Bessie,  you  have  probably  formed 
an  estimate  of  my  general  character  that  no  apology 


THE  AGE  OF  IRON  85 

from  me  will  change.  Yet  it  is  due  myself  as  well 
as  you  to  offer  one.  I  am  sincerely  sorry  for  my 
conduct,  and  ask  your  pardon.  It  must  have  seemed 
unqualified  rowdyism  to  you.  I  know  that  I  have  no 
reputation  in  Allville  to  be  proud  of,  but  I  did,  and 
would  again,  value  your  good  opinion.  Yours  truly, 
Richard  Halpin.' 

"  Quite  an  apology,"  said  Mabel,  as  she  handed 
the  letter  back ;  "  but  why  should  he  apologize  to 
you,  Bessie?  Did  he — did  he  hit  you?  " 

"  Why,  Mabel — the  idea.  He  thought,  I  suppose, 
that  I  should  blame  him  for  poor  Dicky's  suffering; 
and  then,  too,  I  was  his  only  friend." 

"  And  I  suppose  you  will  answer?  " 

"  Most  certainly." 

"  Well,  Bessie,  when  your  Dick  buys  the  ring  he 
must  induce  Mr.  Breen  to  select  it.  Mr.  Breen  is 
certainly  a  judge."  Mabel  fingered  the  brilliant, 
and  looked  lovingly  and  proudly  at  it. 

"  If  it  should  come  to  that,  Mabel,"  answered 
Bessie,  somewhat  incoherently,  "  I  think  he  could 
choose  for  himself.  There  are  mother  and  Anna — 
beckoning,"  she  continued,  brokenly.  "  I  must  leave 
you,  Mabel ;  and  do  come  around." 

"  Yes,  and  do  come  yourself.  I've  so  many  things 
to  tell  you.  Good-by,  dear." 

"Good-by,  Mabel." 

They  kissed  and  parted  on  the  corner  around 
which  Dick  had  stalked  his  officer,  Mabel  going  back 
to  her  home  with  lips  tightly  pressed,  and  Bessie 
joining  her  mother  and  sister  with  a  look  on  her  face 
that  brought  anxious  inquiries  as  to  her  health. 
Neither  girl  called  on  the  other,  and  when  they  met 
again,  they  kissed,  talked- commonplaces,  and  parted 
without  kissing.  When  next  they  met  the  kiss  was 


86  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

omitted,  and  the  conversation  short.  Next  time, 
Bessie  was  looking  at  a  show-window  as  Mabel  came 
abreast,  and  on  the  next  occasion  this  happened  to 
Mabel.  Finally,  they  passed  with  stately  and  silent 
salutes. 

From  a  masculine  point  of  view  it  was  certainly 
wrong  for  Bessie  to  give  a  false  coloring  to  Dick's 
ambiguous  apology;  but  she  was  a  woman;  and 
women  have  their  own  code  of  honor,  which  we  must 
not  question. 

Instead  of  writing  candidly  to  Mr.  Breen  explain 
ing  Dick's  position,  as  masculine  ethics  would  have 
prompted,  Bessie  wrote  to  Dick,  and  not  being  sure 
of  his  abiding-place,  sent  the  letter  in  care  of  Mr. 
Breen.  The  ensign  received  it,  studied  the  super 
scription  and  postmark,  swore  softly,  and  sent  it  by 
a  messenger-boy  to  Dick,  who,  with  a  sunburst  of 
court-plaster  on  his  brow  and  dismal  gloom  in  his 
soul,  read  it  in  the  light  of  a  bow  port. 

It  was  an  angry  letter,  telling  of  the  diamond 
ring,  and  defining  Dick's  position  very  clearly;  but 
as  it  contained  confessions  wrung  from  her  maidenly 
heart,  it  will  not  be  given  here.  If  Bessie,  prompted 
by  the  inscrutable  feminine  code,  had  hoped  that 
Dick  would  show  it,  or  hint  as  to  its  tenor,  to  Mr. 
Breen,  the  letter  failed  of  its  mark ;  for  Dick  under 
stood  none  but  the  masculine  code. 

But  the  enclosed  clipping  from  the  Alhille  Times 
was  certainly  meant  for  Dick's  own  reading.  It  ran 
as  follows : — 

"  Yesterday  afternoon  a  gang  of  drunken  sailors  came  to  our 
peaceful  town,  and  after  a  noisy  orgie  in  the  whisky  hole  run 
by  Timothy  Morrisey,  began  the  task  of  '  painting  the  town.' 
Thanks  to  the  well-known  inefficiency  of  the  police  force,  they 
almost  succeeded.  Their  first  assault  was  directed  at  the  gradu 
ating  class  of  the  high  school,  as  a  result  of  which  several 
of  its  members  are  now  ill  in  bed  from  the  severity  of  their 


THE  AGE  OF  IRON  87 

injuries.  The  commencement  exercises  will  probably  be  post 
poned.  It  seems  that  the  ringleader  and  chief  rowdy  of  the 
gang  is  one  Richard  Halpin,  a  former  member  of  this  class, 
who  was  expelled  from  school  four  years  ago  for  stealing.  He 
then  ran  away  from  home,  and  now,  it  seems,  returns  to  wreak 
his  spite  upon  his  innocent  and  unoffending  classmates,  and 
bring  added  disgrace  upon  himself — if  that  were  possible — and 
on  the  honored  name  which  he  wears,  before  the  grass  has 
sprouted  on  the  graves  of  his  loving  guardians,  whose  hearts 
he  broke  and  whose  deaths  he  hastened  by  his  villainy. 

"  After  their  attack  on  the  school  the  drunken  horde,  first 
overcoming  our  police,  raved  through  the  streets,  smashing 
windows  and  maltreating  citizens;  then  the  fire  department 
was  called  out  by  the  mayor.  Our  brave  firemen  would  cer 
tainly  have  overcome  the  rioters  but  that  the  appearance  of 
Ensign  Breen  of  the  navy,  a  guest  of  our  mayor,  rendered 
action  unnecessary.  Mr.  Breen  marched  the  crowd  down  to 
the  station  with  the  ruffian  Halpin  under  arrest.  Mr.  Breen 
deserves  the  thanks  of  the  community  for  his  firmness  and 
courage,  and  it  is  to  be  hoped  that  the  fellow  Halpin  will  be 
severely  dealt  with  on  shipboard ;  but,  with  the  expected  reor 
ganization  of  our  police  force,  we  can  confidently  predict  that 
should  he  set  foot  in  our  town  again  his  reception  will  be 
warm. 

"  Efforts  are  being  made  toward  the  rescinding  of  Morrisey's 
license,  as  the  place  has  too  long  disgraced  the  town." 


CHAPTER  XXI 

ON  board  the  Vermont  there  were  twelve  distinct 
and  conflicting  accounts  of  the  "  hurrah  "  at 
Allville  given  to  the  ship's  company ;  but  Dick,  from 
whom  most  was  expected,  had  nothing  to  say  nor 
would  he  express  any  interest  in  Kerrigan's  report, 
reluctantly  given,  that  Devlin  and  himself  had  been 
unable  to  catch  the  long-legged  Ned  Brown.  He  was 
a  changed  3roung  man,  and  in  a  very  bad  way.  Not 
even  the  proud  approval  and  warm  congratulations 
of  Bronson  could  lift  him  from  the  mood  that  had 
engulfed  him.  He  despised  himself.  He  had  seen 
glimpses  of  a  life  in  which  he  could  take  no  part. 
He  was  mentally  benumbed,  and  Bessie's  angry  letter, 
with  its  news  of  his  aunt's  and  uncle's  death,  affected 


88  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

him  much  less  than  it  could  have  before  his  trip.  Nor 
did  Mr.  Breen's  later  attitude  help  him.  There  had 
been  no  summons  to  the  mast,  but  the  ensign  had 
sent  for  Dick,  and  with  constrained  manner  and 
averted  eyes  told  him  that,  having  learned  of  cer 
tain  events  of  his  school-days,  connected  with  his 
recent  conduct,  he  had  decided  to  make  no  report  to 
the  executive  officer.  It  was  right,  he  said,  that  Dick 
should  know  to  whom  he  was  indebted.  He  could 
thank  Miss  Arthur.  He  could  go  forward. 

And  Dick  had  sullenly  thanked  the  officer,  and  had 
gone  forward,  trying  to  hate  Mabel.  But  it  was 
impossible,  in  spite  of  what  seemed  to  him  to  be  the 
nature  of  her  intercession — even  though  she  must 
have  told  of  his  disgrace  at  school.  For  what  else 
would  have  so  turned  Mr.  Breen  against  him  ? 

Gradually,  however,  Dick  came  back  to  something 
like  his  old  genial  self,  yet  could  not,  by  the  time 
he  lined  up  on  the  Cob-dock  with  lashed  bag  and 
hammock, — one  of  a  draft  for  the  New  York, — look 
on  Mr.  Breen  without  silent  malediction. 

Strong  to  his  resolve  to  quit  the  navy  when  his 
time  expired,  he,  with  others  of  the  draft,  had  en 
tered  early  protest  against  being  sent  to  a  foreign 
station.  The  protest,  usually  considered,  was  ig 
nored,  possibly  from  an  inward  knowledge  among  the 
officers  that  the  New  York  might  remain  on  the 
coast ;  but  this  reason  was  not  given  to  the  men,  and 
there  was  bitter  talk  of  desertion  before  the  ship 
sailed.  Dick,  laying  this  additional  grievance  at  the 
door  of  Mr.  Breen,  who  had  promised  to  have  him 
selected  from  good-will,  and  had  now  done  it  from 
ill-will,  seriously  thought  of  it  himself. 

A  few  happenings  strengthened  his  half-formed 
resolution.  The  New  York,  a  two-masted,  three- 


THE  AGE  OF  IRON  89 

funneled  armored  cruiser,  was  taking  in  the  coal  dis 
charged  before  docking.  As  her  bunkers  held  over 
twelve  hundred  tons,  it  was  a  long,  distasteful  job 
for  the  men,  and  nothing  else  being  required  of  them 
until  the  carpenters,  calkers,  and  machinists  had  fin 
ished  repairs,  the  off -watch  was  allowed  daily  liberty. 
Fate  and  Dick's  captain-of-division  had  decreed  that 
he  should  take  his  place  one  morning  in  the  lighter 
alongside  to  shovel  coal  into  canvas  bags,  and  hook 
on  the  davit  whip  by  which  they  were  hoisted  up  to 
the  shutes.  It  was  a  dirty  and  dusty  job,  and,  along 
near  noon  and  knocking-ofr  time,  just  when  he  was 
as  dirty,  dusty,  and  black  as  he  could  be,  he  looked 
up  from  a  filled  bag  to  see  Mabel  Arthur  gazing  down 
on  him  from  the  after  part  of  the  superstructure- 
deck.  Beside  her  was  Mr.  Breen,  pointing  at  him, 
and  farther  along  were  her  father  and  brother  in 
specting  a  searchlight.  There  was  little  reason  to 
suppose  that  they  could  know  one  grimy  shoveler 
from  another  at  that  distance,  or  that  Mabel  would 
have  recognized  her  own  brother  so  disguised,  but 
Dick  looked  downward  with  cheeks  burning  under  the 
dirt.  He  had  been  pointed  at,  and  he  felt  his  humilia 
tion  to  the  full.  He  shoveled  energetically  for  a 
while,  and  when  forced  to  straighten  his  aching  back, 
he  looked,  not  aft,  but  forward,  and  there  she  was, 
staring  down  on  him  from  the  forward  bridge,  while 
Mr.  Breen,  amidships,  was  pointing  up  at  the  fight 
ing-tops,  seemingly  explaining  things  to  Mr.  Arthur 
and  George.  Dick  hung  his  head  again,  and  worked, 
perspiring.  He  had  little  false  pride,  and  coaling 
ship  was  a  necessary  evil,  but  he  should  have  liked 
to  be  cleaner  when  she  looked  at  him — not  laboring 
like  a  longshoreman  at  the  most  unsailorly  work  in 
the  navy.  Having  climbed  into  a  port  to  avoid  meet- 


90  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

ing  her,  he  met  her  again  on  the  lower  deck,  forward 
of  the  engine-room  skylight,  where  the  visitors  and 
Mr.  Breen  were  picking  their  way  aft  over  scattered 
lumps  of  coal. 

"  Here,"  cried  the  officer,  sharply,  "  get  a  broom 
— there's  one — sweep  this  gangway  clear.  Lively 
now!" 

He  spoke  to  Dick,  but  neither  he  nor  the  gentle 
men  seemed  to  know  him :  though  Mabel  certainly 
did,  as  was  evidenced  by  the  fixity  of  her  gaze  over 
his  head  while  he  swept  coal  out  of  her  way,  and 
by  the  sweetness  of  the  smile  she  gave  the  next  grimy 
tar — it  was  Casey — who  kicked  a  sleeping  pig,  the 
ship's  mascot,  from  her  path. 

Raging  inwardly,  Dick  finished  the  task,  flung  the 
broom  from  him,  cleaned  up,  and  ate  his  dinner.  He 
kept  out  of  sight  until  two  o'clock,  when  a  boat- 
swain's-mate  piped  the  liberty  crowd  to  the  quarter 
deck  ;  and  here,  standing  in  line — sweet  and  clean, 
and  good-looking — he  stared  defiantly  into  her  eyes 
as  she  watched  the  men  told  off.  But  he  could  not 
keep  it  up;  she  joined  him  in  the  stare;  his  eyes 
shifted  and  came  back, — she  was  still  gazing  at  him, 
— and  they  sought  the  deck.  He  looked  again,  with 
the  defiance  gone,  and  in  place  of  it,  the  dumb,  plead 
ing  look  of  a  spaniel.  Then  her  own  eyes  dropped, 
a  blush  came  to  her  face,  and  she  looked  at  him  no 
more.  She  was  not  conquered  in  the  battle  of  eyes ; 
she  had  merely  searched  well,  and  learned  what  she 
had  not  known. 

On  the  dock  Dick  gave  his  name  to  the  cadet  in 
charge  of  the  squad,  and  obtained  permission  to  visit 
the  Vermont  before  going  out  of  the  yard.  He  saw 
Bronson  and  had  a  stormy  quarter  of  an  hour  with 
him,  at  the  end  of  which  the  latter  said  gravely, 


THE  AGE  OF  IRON  91 

"  And  I  hoped  to  see  you  a  warrant  officer,  but  you 
won't  have  it ;  so,  go — go  along,  and  good  luck  to  you, 
Dick." 

CHAPTER  XXII 

TT^ATHER,  daughter,  and  brother  left  the  New 
A  York,  with  Mr.  Breen  in  civilian's  clothing  and 
carrying  a  heavy  satchel.  The  ship  lay  on  the  in 
shore  side  of  the  Cob-dock,  just  around  the  corner 
from  the  Vermont,  and  a  straight  sidewalk  led  from 
her  gang-plank  to  the  landing  of  the  ferry-scow,  a 
cabined  craft  which  pulled  itself  by  means  of  a  winch- 
engine  back  and  forth  on  a  stationary  chain.  Dick 
Halpin  hurried  down  another  walk  which  led  from 
the  Vermont,  and  boarded  the  scow  just  ahead  of 
them.  When  they  entered  and  sat  down  amidships 
he  was  seated  in  a  forward  corner,  with  his  bade 
turned  squarely  toward  them;  but  his  cap  was  slued 
on  his  head,  and  the  name  of  his  ship  on  the  ribbon 
was  readable. 

"  There's  one  of  your  men,  forward,"  said  George, 
as  Mr.  Breen,  with  a  sigh  of  relief,  deposited  the 
satchel  on  the  deck.  The  officer  glanced,  nodded, 
and  sat  down  beside  Mabel.  Other  passengers — • 
sailors,  marines,  and  workmen — crowded  in,  and  Dick 
was  nearly  hidden  from  view. 

"  Does  he  have  to  shovel  coal?  "  asked  Mabel  in 
a  low  voice.  "  Is  that  his  duty?  " 

"  Who  do  you  mean?  " 

She  leaned  forward,  looked  at  Dick's  broad  back, 
and  said,  "  Dick  Halpin." 

"  Why,  yes — coaling  ship — in  his  turn — unless  he 
gets  a  rating.  But  he  hasn't  had  time  for  that. 
Was  he  shoveling?  " 


92  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

"Didn't  you  see  him?  You  pointed  right  at  him 
— down  in  the  boat.  He  saw  us.  He  must  have 
thought  we  were  talking  about  him." 

"  Didn't  see  him  at  all." 

"  You  ordered  him  to  sweep  the  floor  for  us — - 
down  cellar.  Do  you  always  speak  to  him  like 
that?" 

"Was  that  Halpin?  "  asked  the  ensign,  with  a 
smile.  "  They're  all  alike,  sometimes.  Certainly. 
We  can't  take  time  to  request  them  to  do  anything. 
We  tell  them  to." 

She  was  silent ;  the  noise  of  the  chain  going  over 
the  winch  made  conversation  difficult,  and  when  the 
scow  reached  the  landing  they  all  arose  and  crowded 
forward  to  step  ashore.  "  Here,  my  lad,"  said  Mr. 
Breen,  briskly,  tapping  Dick  on  the  shoulder.  "  Go 
ing  out?  Carry  this  grip  for  me  to  the  gate — eh — 
Halpin." 

Dick  turned  with  a  flush  on  his  face  that  was 
almost  black ;  but  he  touched  his  cap  and  took  the 
bag.  George  smiled  cheerfully,  but  Mr.  Breen 
seemed  disturbed  and  embarrassed.  He  stepped  after 
Dick  with  a  hand  half  extended  for  the  burden,  but 
it  was  too  late;  he  was  on  the  landing-float,  and 
before  the  ensign  reached  it,  was  swinging  up  the 
walk  as  though  anxious  to  escape  from  them.  Mr. 
Breen  paused  and  looked  at  Mabel's  face;  but  she 
averted  her  eyes  as  she  took  her  father's  arm,  and  he 
walked  to  the  gate  beside  her  brother.  Outside,  Dick 
was  waiting.  No  doubt  his  training  was  strong 
upon  him,  yet  there  was  a  suggestion  in  the  way 
he  was  swinging  the  bag  of  a  desire  to  hurl  it  from 
him,  as  he  had  once  thrown  his  school  books.  Mr. 
Breen  approached  and  relieved  him. 

"  I  didn't  know  you,  Halpin,"  he  said.     "  Believe 


THE  AGE  OF  IRON  93 

me,  I  had  no  wish  to  work  you  or  humiliate  you  before 
people  you  knew." 

The  unforgiving  Dick  turned  a  sullen  face  away 
from  him,  then  back. 

"  Wouldn't  you  like,  sir,"  he  said  in  a  voice  which, 
thougk  high-pitched  and  trembling,  was  but  little 
louder  than  the  purr  of  a  cat,  "  that  I  should  polish 
your  shoes?  There's  still  time — while  I  wear  this 
rig." 

"  Halpin,  you  are  insolent." 

"Am  I,  sir?  Perhaps.  I  happen  to  be  a  free- 
born  American  in  temporary  servitude.  Not  for 
long,  however,  though  I  may  finish  my  time  in  the 
brig.  Let  me  suggest,  Mr.  Breen,  tact  and  wisdom 
on  your  part  when  we  meet  after  that." 

He  swung  on  his  heel  and  strode  down  the  street 
toward  the  Brooklyn  Bridge.  Mr.  Breen,  biting  his 
lip,  returned  to  his  friends,  and  they  boarded  the 
first  car  that  came  along,  which,  being  delayed, 
did  not  make  good  time;  so,  they  mounted  the  steps 
to  the  platform  just  ahead  of  Dick,  who  had  walked 
the  distance,  and  as  they  seated  themselves,  Mabel 
looked  at  the  ensign  with  an  expression  that  he  did 
not  understand,  but  which  brought  him  to  her  side. 

"  Your  friend  has  given  warning,"  he  said,  with 
a  troubled  look  at  her.  "  Going  to  skip,  I  judge." 

"What?" 

"  Desert." 

"  Don't  they  hang  them,  or  shoot  them  for  that?  f> 

"  Not  in  time  of  peace.  A  man  is  no  good  if 
he  doesn't  want  to  stay;  so  we  seldom  look  for 
them.  The  worst  that  could  happen  is  a  couple  of 
years  in  the  Charlestown  naval  prison.  But  it's  too 
bad.  He's  a  good  man." 

"  Good.     Yes,  good  to  put  in  coal,   and  sweep, 


94  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

and  carry  things,  and  be  spoken  to  as  you  could  not 
safely  speak  to  a  servant,"  she  answered,  quickly. 
*'  But  he  must  not.  It's  so  disgraceful." 

While  the  officer  was  contriving  a  safe  answer  to 
her  puzzling  comparisons,  she  arose  with  resolution 
in  her  eyes;  then,  while  he  held  up  a  deprecatory 
hand  to  Mr.  Arthur,  who  was  about  to  speak,  she 
marched  out  and  through  the  train  to  where  Dick 
sat  alone  in  the  rear  car,  looking  out  on  the  river 
and  shipping. 

"  Mr.  Halpin,"  she  said,  as  she  took  the  seat  be 
side  him. 

He  turned  and  the  anger  left  his  face.  Reaching 
up  awkwardly,  he  got  his  cap  off  and  held  it  in  his 
lap,  while  he  stammered :  "  Miss  Arthur.  I  didn't — 
how  do  you  do  ?  " 

"  Mr.  Breen  has  just  told  me  that  you  mean  to 
leave  the  navy — to  desert." 

"  Yes.     I've  had  enough  of  it." 

"But  you  know  the  consequences?  It  will  ruin 
you." 

"  It's  hard  to  ruin  a  foremast  hand,  Miss 
Arthur." 

"  But  the  disgrace — think  of  it.     Please  do  not." 

He  was  silent,  and  his  hand  shook  as  he  gripped 
his  cap. 

"  You  know,"  she  went  on,  "  I  was  in  a  way 
connected  with  your  leaving  school  and  home,  and 
I've  always  wanted  to  tell  you  how  sorry  and 
ashamed  I  was,  but  you  never  came  back;  and  you 
cannot  wonder  that  I  want  to  see  you  succeed." 

"  There's  no  success  in  the  navy,"  he  answered, 
doggedly.  "  The  laws  forbid  it.  After  years  of 
service  and  hard  study,  I  might  become  a  boatswain 
or  a  gunner,  and  there  I'd  stop.  And  I  hate  the 


THE  AGE  OF  IRON  95 

life.  No,  Miss  Arthur,  I'll  succeed,  I  promise  you 
that.  I'll  meet  him  yet  as  an  equal." 

"Who?" 

"  Mr.  Breen ;  but  I've  no  chance  in  the  same  ship 
with  him.  He's  got  his  knife  into  me  now." 

"Does  he  bully  you?  Oh,  I  noticed — I  was  so 
sorry.  Promise  me,  please,  that  you  will  not  desert. 
For  my  sake — " 

"  I  did  something  once  for  your  sake,"  he  an 
swered,  insanely,  "  and  got  the  worst  of  it  all  around. 
Here's  one  result.  After  four  years'  service  I  may 
be  body-servant — a  bag  carrier — to  the  man  you 
are  to  marry." 

She  started  up,  with  two  very  red  cheeks,  and 
left  him.  At  the  door  she  halted  and  turned  as 
though  she  would  have  come  back,  but  he  was  staring 
sullenly  across  the  car,  and  the  train  was  entering 
the  New  York  terminal.  So  she  joined  the  others. 

"  I  can  do  nothing  with  him,"  she  said  to  Mr. 
Breen.  "  He  is  angry — and — he  never  has  forgiven 
me.  But  you  can  reason  with  him." 

"I?    Why  should  I?" 

"  You  must.  You  have  ill-treated  him.  There- 
he  goes  now — between  the  cars ;  hurry." 

"But  why?     What  for?     What  am  I  to  do?" 

"  Catch  him.  Talk  with  him.  Explain  what  I 
cannot.  Apologize  to  him.  Yes,  you.  Put  aside 
your  dignity  for  him — for  me.  Please — hurry.  Oh,. 
please.  He  turned  up  the  street." 

"I'm  in  for  it,"  said  the  officer,  dryly.  "All 
right ;  I'll  do  all  I  can  for  him.  Here,  Mr.  Arthur, 
will  you  please  leave  the  grip  in  the  parcel-room 
at  the  station,  with  my  name.  I'll  report,  Miss 
Arthur,  if  I  live  through  it;  but  I  ought  to  have 
some  brass  knuckles,  or  a  club.  Good  day." 


96  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

He  hastened  on  and  up  Park  Row  after  the  tall 
blue  figure  which  he  could  see  over  the  heads  of  the 
crowd.  "  One  sometimes  wonders,"  he  muttered  as 
he  dodged  along,  "  just  what  constitutes  conduct 
becoming  an  officer  and  a  gentleman.  As  an  officer, 
I  ought  to  call  a  policeman ;  as  a  gentleman,  I  must 
do  as  I'm  bid  like  a  little  man — run  after  this  un- 
licked  scrapper,  pat  him  on  the  back,  soothe  his 
injured  feelings,  and  forever  lose  his  respect  for  me 
as  an  officer." 

He  took  his  eyes  off  Dick  for  a  moment  or  two 
as  the  crowd  impeded  him,  and  when  he  looked  again 
he  was  not  in  sight. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

WHEN  Dick  had  left  the  car  he  hurried  past 
the  others  and  up  Park  Row  in  the  mood  of 
an  Apache  at  a  torture-bee.  He  had  given  pain,  and 
savagely  he  rejoiced.  What  right  had  she,  in  her 
insolence  of  beauty  and  position,  to  patronize  and 
pity  him  ?  He  wanted  none  of  her  pity. 

But  underneath  this  raging  was  an  obtruding 
consciousness  that  he  had  acted  like  a  sulky  boy, 
and  for  a  moment  it  took  charge  of  his  soul — for 
a  moment  he  would  have  rushed  through  fire  to  reach 
her  and  humble  himself,  and  in  this  moment  he 
turned  to  go  back,  to  follow  her  home  if  necessary; 
but  he  saw  Mr.  Breen  pushing  toward  him  through 
the  crowd.  "  D — — n  him,"  he  growled ;  "  why  don't 
she  send  her  precious  brother  too?  "  He  darted  into 
the  nearest  doorway ;  it  was  a  pawnshop  with  another 
entrance  on  William  Street,  and  passing  through  he 
doubled  back,  and  by  a  passageway  alongside  the 


THE  AGE  OF  IRON  97 

bridge  reached  Park  Row  again  at  the  foot  of  the 
entrance.  They  were  not  in  sight,  and  he  paused. 

"  No,"  he  muttered,  "  I'll  fight  it  out  to  the  end. 
I'll  prove  myself  as  good  as  she  or  her  ensign." 

He  was  less  savage  now,  but  more  consistent  in 
his  resolve,  and  he  crossed  City  Hall  Park,  found  a 
barber  shop  and  had  his  hair  cut.  The  result,  as 
he  looked  in  the  mirror,  did  not  please  him.  His 
features  seemed  larger  and  coarser,  and  near  the 
borders  of  the  cropped  hair  were  white  streaks  of 
skin  that  had  been  shaded  from  the  sun.  "  Spotted 
like  a  brindle  cow,"  he  grumbled,  "  till  I  bleach  out ; 
but  I've  got  to  be  civilised."  In  a  near-by  clothing 
store  he  bought  a  suit,  hat,  linen,  and  neckwear, 
which  he  donned  in  the  dressing-room,  and  then 
stepped  into  the  street  with  his  uniform  in  a  bundle, 
almost  unrecognizable  to  a  shipmate. 

He  would  pawn  his  uniform ;  but  unwillingness  to 
meet  Mr.  Breen  prevented  him  seeking  one  of  the 
numerous  pawnshops  in  Park  Row,  so  he  recrossed 
the  Park,  went  east  below  the  bridge,  turned  north, 
and  in  Catherine  Street,  down  near  the  river,  found 
a  pawnbroker  who  advanced  five  dollars  on  the  suit. 
He  would  have  purchased  it  outright  for  ten,  for 
it  was  of  the  finest  cloth  and  flannel,  stitched  and 
starred  and  crow-footed  with  silk;  but  down  in 
Dick's  rebellious  heart  was  the  man-of-war's-man's 
love  for  his  mustering-clothes,  and  he  refused  to  sell. 
When  he  was  established  as  a  landsman  and  a  gen 
tleman,  it  would  be  a  pleasant  reminder  of  the  life 
he  had  escaped. 

It  was  growing  dark  when  he  left  the  pawnshop. 
The  wind  was  rising,  and  damp  snow  filled  the  air, 
which,  melting  underfoot,  made  a  dirty  slush  that 
wet  his  feet  in  a  block's  walk.  He  regretted  r\ot 


98  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

buying  rubber  overshoes,  not  because  wet  feet  were 
unusual,  or  troubled  him  in  the  least,  but  because 
he  must  now  act  and  feel  like  a  citizen ;  he  must  also 
have  an  umbrella,  and  when  he  had  obtained  money, 
an  overcoat,  which  he  would  wear  through  the  winter 
•whether  he  was  cold  or  not. 

His  humiliation  and  anger  at  noon  had  prevented 
him  eating  much  at  dinner,  and  feeling  hungry  now, 
and  reasoning  that  Mr.  Breen  could  not  remain  very 
long  in  Park  Row,  he  tramped  through  the  slush  to 
this  street  of  cheap  restaurants ;  for  he  must  econ 
omize  until  he  found  work.  Before  a  huge  dish  of 
hot  corned-beef  hash,  he  resigned  himself  to  the  lux 
ury  of  being  a  landsman.  "  Think  of  the  way  mess 
cooks  spoil  good  grub,"  he  mused  as  he  ate. 
"  Couldn't  cook  like  this  if  you  paid  them.  Four 
years  and  a  half  in  the  navy — where  you  think  by 
regulation — with  a  boss  at  each  hatchway.  No 
more  for  me.  Ashore  a  man  has  one  boss,  and  sleeps 
in  a  bedroom  with  a  window  in  it." 

He  was  again  in  the  street,  the  warmth  of  the  res 
taurant  behind  him,  the  damp  chill  of  the  storm  all 
about  him.  He  must  find  a  boarding-house,  and  look 
for  work  in  the  morning.  Nothing  better  of  the  first 
presented  than  one  of  the  twenty-five-cent  lodging- 
houses  on  the  Bowery,  so  he  sought  one,  and  sat  in 
the  reading-room — to  wait  for  bedtime.  About  him 
were  all  manner  of  men,  in  all  stages  of  poverty — 
all  out  of  work,  as  evidenced  by  their  depressing, 
half-hearted  conversation.  These  men  were  not  suc 
ceeding  on  shore,  and  some  were  well  educated  and 
intelligent.  He  tried  to  read  a  newspaper,  but  gave 
it  up ;  for,  either  from  his  well-filled  stomach — which 
"was  beginning  to  distress  him — or  from  the  backward 
swing  of  the  mental  pendulum,  he  could  not  keep  his 


THE  AGE  OF  IRON  99 

mind  off  the  day's  happenings.  He  saw  her  face, 
with  its  new  expression.  He  shut  his  eyes  to  see  it 
smiling  from  the  window  of  her  home,  but  the  vision 
would  not  come ;  all  he  could  see  was  shock,  and  pain, 
and  embarrassment — the  red  spots  on  the  cheeks. 

In  five  minutes  the  reaction  had  set  in  strong; 
and  he  reviled  himself,  doubting  his  sanity — again 
in  the  agonies  of  dejection  and  self-contempt.  He 
understood  the  full  force  of  his  brutal  speech,  not 
in  its  effect  on  her, — for  he  had  never  dreamed  that 
she  had  cleared  him  of  the  charge  which  embittered 
his  life, — but  as  it  appealed  to  his  manhood  and  sense 
of  fair  play.  Then  his  love  for  her  arose  in  its 
strength  to  punish  him.  She  had  come,  voluntarily, 
and  apologized  for  a  childish  fault,  in  order  that 
she  might  beg  him,  for  her  sake,  not  to  brand  himself 
with  the  stain  that  could  in  no  wise  reach  her.  What 
did  it  mean?  he  asked  himself.  There  flashed  over 
his  mind  a  momentary  thought  that  it  meant  love 
for  him ;  but  he  put  the  thought  from  him  as  impossi 
ble — not  for  a  brute  like  him.  It  was  her  generous 
nobility  of  soul  acting  in  spite  of  his  oft-repeated 
boorishness. 

He  arose  and  went  out  into  the  storm,  fighting 
his  way  against  it  to  Catherine  Street,  down  which 
he  turned,  only  to  find  the  pawnshop  closed;  for  it 
was  after  six  o'clock.  He  was  disappointed;  he 
would  have  resumed  his  uniform  and  gone  aboard 
the  ship  that  evening,  to  take  up  the  burden  she 
had  asked  of  him ;  and  it  now  meant  a  night  in  the 
lodging-house,  which,  in  his  present  mood,  was 
repugnant  to  him.  He  went  slowly  back,  for  he  was 
not  feeling  well;  the  dull  pain  in  his  stomach  had 
increased,  and,  under  a  lamp-post,  a  sudden  fierce 
gripe  brought  him  up,  half  bent  over,  and  clinging 


100  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

to  the  iron  post  for  support.  A  passer-by  touched 
him  on  the  shoulder.  It  was  Mr.  Breen,  wet  and 
bedraggled,  with  a  tired,  angry  face. 

"  This  you,  Halpin  ?  So  you've  done  it,  have 
you?" 

"  No,  Mr.  Breen,"  gasped  the  subdued  Dick. 
"  I've  changed  my  mind.  I'm  going  aboard  in  the 
morning,  when  I  get  my  clothes." 

"  You're  going  back,"  said  the  disgusted  officer. 
"  If  I'd  known  that  I'd  have  done  something  better 
with  my  time  than  searching  every  dive  in  sailor- 
town  for  you.  May  I  ask  you,  in  all  due  humility, 
what  has  changed  your  mind?  " 

"  May  I  ask  you,  sir,"  said  Dick,  speaking  with 
difficulty,  "  why  you  waste  your  time  looking  for 
me?" 

"  Because  a  lady  asked  me  to." 

"  That — is — why — I  serve  my  time,  sir — because 
she  asked  me — O  Lord !  " 

"  What's  the  matter  with  you?  Halpin,  what  ails 
you?" 

"  Stomach-ache,  sir.     I  ate  some  Park  Row  hash." 

The  young  officer  grinned  in  spite  of  his  mood. 
"  You  want  some  peppermint,  or  ginger,  I  should 
say.  Come  around  the  corner,  Halpin.  It's  a  tough 
joint — I  was  just  there — but  the  nearest,  and — any 
port  in  a  storm." 

CHAPTER  XXIV 

IT  was  not  an  ill-looking  place,  as  saloons  go,  to 
which  Mr.   Breen  assisted  Dick.     The  barroom 
was   small  and  the  bar  short,  but  it  was  neat  and 
clean.     Around  the  walls  were  prints  and  models  of 
ships,  brigs,  and  schooners,  and  on  the  shelf  back 


THE  AGE  OF  IRONT  101 

of  the  bar  was  the  inevitable  full-rigged  ship  in  a 
bottle.  The  floor  was  covered  with  clean  sawdust, 
and  two  round  tables,  with  chairs  and  convenient 
cuspidors,  crowded  the  small  space  available.  At 
one  table  sat  three  men,  stupid  with  drink.  Their 
nondescript  dress,  gathered  in  parts  from  the  sea 
ports  of  two  hemispheres,  betrayed  the  merchant 
sailor,  and  their  blond  heads  and  red  faces  their 
Scandinavian  birth.  They  glanced  with  dead  eyes 
at  the  two  newcomers  and  went  back  to  their  medi 
tations  and  mutterings.  Two  men,  sober,  hard-faced, 
and  keen-eyed,  arose  from  the  other  table  and  stepped 
into  a  rear  room,  but  were  called  back  by  the  man 
behind  the  bar — a  large,  brawny  fellow,  with  beetling 
eyebrows  and  a  long  pointed  nose. 

"  Want  to  sit  down,  gents?  "  he  said.  "  Good  fire 
in  the  back  room.  Bad  day,  ain't  it?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  the  ensign,  whose  glance  at  the  table 
seemed  to  have  prompted  the  man's  suggestion. 
"  This — my  friend  here  is  sick.  Bring  two  hot 
whiskys,  and  put  a  good  dose  of  ginger  in  one." 

"  Yes,  sir.     I'll  fix  'im  up." 

Dick  was  in  dire  pain,  unable  to  stand  erect,  and 
too  humble  of  mind  and  weak  of  will  to  resist  or 
resent  the  officer's  assistance.  They  sat  down  close 
to  a  hot  stove  in  the  back  room,  which,  besides  the 
table  and  chairs,  contained  no  furniture  or  decora 
tions.  A  door  in  the  side  of  the  wall  seemed  to  lead 
to  another  room  and  a  stairway  to  the  floor  above. 

"  Sailor's  boarding-house,  sir,"  groaned  Dick  as 
he  collapsed  on  the  table. 

The  hot  stimulants  arrived  and  were  quickly  con 
sumed;  then  Mr.  Breen  studied  the  ghastly  face 
opposite  him. 

"  Feel  better,  Halpin?  "  he  asked  at  length. 


102  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

"  Yes,  sir— a  little." 

"  It  isn't  often,  Halpin,  that  an  officer  gets  a 
chance  to  hobnob  with  a  blue-jacket;  but  I  want  to 
talk  with  you,  and  you  seem  to  need  it.  Circum 
stances  have  brought  us  into  contact  lately  in  ways 
not  prescribed  by  the  regulations;  and  I  have  no 
ticed  an  antagonism  on  your  part  which  I  have 
tried  not  to  earn.  Now,  I  want  to  ask  you — is  it 
because  I  surprised  you  the  other  day — at  a  time 
when  number  three  makes  a  crowd?" 

"  Well,  sir,"  answered  Dick,  evasively  preferring 
this  view  of  the  case  to  stand  rather  than  confess 
his  jealousy,  "  Bess — Miss — the  young  lady  felt  very 
badly." 

"  Naturally,"  said  the  ensign,  with  a  short,  dry 
laugh. 

"  And  then,  sir,"  went  on  Dick,  more  truthfully, 
"  you  put  me  under  arrest  in  my  own  town,  when 
I  thought — and  I  still  think — that  I  was  in  the  right. 
Then  to-day,  you  showed  me  up  before  my  worst 
enemy.  There's  an  old  difference  between  George 
Arthur  and  myself." 

"  I  cannot  ask  nor  receive  any  confidences  regard 
ing  Mr.  Arthur;  nor  do  I  wish  to  probe  into  your 
private  affairs;  but,  at  times — what's  the  matter? 
Are  you  worse?  " 

Dick  had  lost  all  sense  of  gravitation  and  phys 
ical  adjustment.  The  walls  were  moving  around 
him  and  separating  from  each  other  and  the  ceil 
ing1.  The  table  seemed  tilted,  and  he  gripped 
it  by  the  edges  to  prevent  it  slipping  away,  while 
Mr.  Breen's  earnest  face  was  above  him  looking 
down. 

"  Hang  my  fool  tongue,"  muttered  the  ensign. 
"  The  Lord  only  knows  what's  back  of  this  mix. 


THE  AGE  OF  IRON  103 

And — and — what  ails  me,  I  wonder.  Stove  too  hot 
— I'm  light-headed.  Let's  get  out,  Halpin." 

Dick  painfully  sat  erect,  lurched  backward,  pulled 
himself  forward  with  his  hands  and  got  on  his  feet, 
only  to  sink  into  the  chair  again. 

"  I'm  drugged,  thir,"  he  said,  thickly.  "  Look 
outh — board'-houthe-crimpth — shanghai."  He  slid 
sidewise  to  the  floor  and  lay  still. 

The  officer  scrambled  to  his  feet  and  staggered 
to  the  door,  but  found  it  locked. 

"  Police !  "  he  yelled.  "  Police !  "  And  grabbing 
table  and  chairs  for  support,  he  made  his  way  to 
the  side  door,  which  also  was  locked. 

"  Dry  up  in  there,"  said  a  voice  from  the  bar 
room. 

The  ensign  answered  incoherently,  reeled  across 
the  room,  and  fell  to  the  floor;  then  the  door 
opened  and  the  bartender  appeared,  followed  by  the 
two  men  he  had  called  back. 

"  Shut  the  door,"  he  snarled.  "  Them  Souwegians 
ain't  none  too  full." 

He  searched  the  pockets  of  the  unconscious  men, 
removed  what  was  of  value,  and  said : — 

"  Upstairs  wid  'em.  Get  'em  ready — and  get 
them  two  bags  in  the  closet  for  'em.  Hurry  up, 
now.  Tug's  goin'  down  at  eight.  If  they  want 
more  dope,  sing  out." 

He  went  out,  unlocked  the  front  door,  looked  at 
the  three  stupid  men  at  the  table,  took  his  place 
behind  the  bar,  and  the  saloon  resumed  business. 

That  evening  a  tug  steamed  down  the  bay 
through  the  storm.  In  the  warm  pilot-house,  be 
sides  the  tug  captain,  were  a  shipmaster,  a  Sandy 
Hook  pilot,  and  a  boarding-house  runner — one  of 
the  two  men  who  had  got  Dick  and  his  officer 


104  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

"  ready."  Blood  money  paid  by  captains  for  sailors 
is  not  due  until  the  goods  are  delivered;  so  this 
runner,  as  he  explained  to  the  tug  captain,  was 
going  down  with  the  two  men,  who  had  signed  arti 
cles  that  morning,  had  "jumped  their  allotment," 
got  drunk  and  been  caught,  and  now  lay  on  the 
forward  deck  in  the  sleet  and  snow  with  their  heads 
pillowed  on  their  clothes  bags — sleeping  it  off. 

Before  midnight,  a  ship  put  to  sea;  and  before 
she  was  two  days  out  the  whole  world  had  arisen 
to  the  news  that  the  United  States  battle-ship  Maine 
had  been  destroyed  in  Havana  harbor. 


BOOK  III 

BARBARISM 

CHAPTER  XXV 

"TTEY,  below,  there!     Hey,  below!     What's  the 

A  A  matter?  Hey?  Heave  out — heave  out. 
Out  on  deck  wi'  ye.  "  Dick  heard  dimly,  groaned 
from  the  pain  in  his  head  and  joints,  and  rolling 
over,  went  to  sleep  again. 

It  was  perhaps  not  a  minute,  but  it  seemed  to 
him  hours  later  when  a  hard  fist  knuckled  his  throat 
and  he  felt  himself  being  dragged  forcibly  outward 
and  downward  to  a  bone-wrenching  collapse  on  the 
floor.  Then  again  he  heard  the  angry,  strident 
voice : — 

"  Get  out  on  deck  to  yer  work,  ye  bloody  . 

Out  wi'  ye>  or  1*11  make  ye  wish  ye're  in  h — 1." 

"What  is  it — what's  up?"  he  asked  brokenly,  as 
he  looked  up  at  a  figure  standing  over  him  in  the 


BARBARISM  105 

flickering  light  of  a  flare  lamp.  Around  him  were 
bunks,  and  on  the  stanchions  between  them  hung 
oilskins,  coats,  and  clothes  bags.  From  the  open 
door  at  the  end  of  the  apartment  the  cold  wind  of 
a  bleak  morning  came  in,  chilly  and  damp. 

"  Get  out  o'  this  and  clap  on  to  them  flyin'-jib 
haPards,"  bellowed  the  man  above  him.  "  Quick, 
or  I'll  lift  ye." 

Dick  was  not  quick,  either  in  his  movements  or 
in  his  mental  processes;  his  head  was  aching  and 
his  brain  reeling  from  the  effects  of  the  drug,  and 
even  the  fall  to  the  floor  had  not  thoroughly  awak 
ened  him ;  so  he  was  "  lifted  " — a  few  inches,  at 
least — and  rolled  a  foot  nearer  the  door  by  the 
impact  of  a  heavy  boot;  but  it  was  a  rubber  boot, 
and  no  bones  were  broken.  Arising  unsteadily,  he 
yielded  to  the  pushes  and  punches  of  the  other  and 
staggered  through  the  door  to  the  deck  without, 
where,  to  the  music  of  flapping  canvas,  whistling 
wind,  and  their  own  discordant  calls,  men  were  set 
ting  the  flying  jib. 

"  Get  a  holt  o'  them  halyards,"  came  the  voice 
of  authority  in  his  ear,  followed  by  a  blow  that 
launched  him  nearly  headlong  into  the  group  of 
men  hoisting  the  sail.  He  was  accustomed  to  obey, 
but  not  to  being  struck;  and  when  thoroughly 
awake  and  able  to  remember  the  events  of  the 
night  before,  and  to  realize  that  he  was  now  at  sea, 
on  board  a  large,  square-rigged  ship,  he  asked  the 
man  nearest  him  for  an  explanation. 

"  What  ye  growlin'  'bout,  matey  ?  "  answered  the 
man.  "  Ye've  just  run  foul  o'  the  bucko  second 
mate — the  boy  bucko.  We've  been  doin'  the  same 
all  night.  He's  big  enough,  but  too  young  for  the 
noise  he  makes." 


106  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

"  Then  I've  been  shanghaied,"  groaned  Dick. 
"  Is  Mr.  Breen  aboard?  " 

"Who — yer  side  partner?  He's  aft  wi'  the  other 
watch.  Oh,  ye've  struck  a  sweet  ship,  matey.  Been 
to  sea  before?  " 

"  In  the  navy." 

"  Whew — both  o'  ye  ?  The  Lord  help  ye  then, 
till  ye  lam  yer  work." 

"  Dry  up  that  guff  at  the  hal'ards,"  bawled  the 
officer  from  amidships. 

"  Aye,  aye,  sir,"  answered  the  man,  cheerfully. 
"  Up  with  her,  lads.  Up  wi'  that  headsail.  Take 
a  hold  here  matey,"  he  added  in  a  lower  tone  to 
Dick.  "  Take  a  hold,  or  ye'll  have  him  at  ye  again." 

And  Dick  pretended  to  pull  on  the  halyards — 
which  was  all  that  he  could  do  in  his  demoralized 
condition.  The  sail  was  soon  up,  and  they  trimmed 
down  the  sheet  at  the  noisy  behest  of  the  officer. 
Then  they  were  all  driven  aft  to  assist  others  of 
the  crew  in  mast-heading  the  mizzentopsail-yard. 
The  strong,  fresh  breeze  was  rapidly  clearing  Dick's 
benumbed  faculties,  and  as  he  hauled  with  the  others, 
he  searched  his  memory  in  the  effort  to  locate  the 
second  mate's  voice.  He  had  heard  it  somewhere, 
he  was  sure,  but  could  not  remember  where,  and 
though  daylight  was  breaking  on  the  lee  beam,  it 
was  still  too  dark  to  distinguish  features.  Indeed, 
it  was  only  when  the  second  mate  called  to  them 
to  "  bend  their  backs,"  and  he  muttered  something  in 
reply,  that  he  became  aware  that  the  unkempt  figure 
just  in  front  of  him  on  the  rope  was  Mr.  Breen. 

"  None  of  that,  Halpin,"  said  the  latter  in  an 
undertone.  "  Keep  your  mouth  closed  tight  until 
I  can  talk  with  you.  They've  put  us  in  separate 
watches.  Roused  me  out  at  midnight." 


BARBARISM  107 

"  Very  good,  sir,"  answered  Dick. 

"  And  don't  '  sir  '  me  here.  Do  as  they  tell  you, 
and  say  nothing.  We're  in  a  bad  fix." 

Though  the  air  was  now  clear  of  snow,  and  the 
storm  of  the  night  before  had  sufficiently  moder 
ated  to  permit  the  carrying  of  all  three  topsails, 
maintopgallant-sail,  and  flying  jib,  there  was  still 
a.  force  to  the  fitful  puffs  of  the  westerly  wind  and 
a  snap  to  the  offshore  sea  which  hammered  the  ship 
and  made  more  sail  inadvisable.  So  when  the  miz- 
zentopsail  was  up  and  the  yard  braced,  a  bellowing 
roar  sounded  from  the  poop-deck :  "  Relieve  the 
wheel  and  lookout.  That'll  do  the  watch." 

"  Your  watch  on  deck,  youngster,"  said  Dick's 
friend,  as  they  coiled  up  the  gear.  "  No  choice 
between  ye  when  we  lifted  ye  up  the  side;  but  the 
mate  picked  yer  chum  and  the  second  mate  picked 
you.  Wonder  where  the  bloody  mate  is.  Haven't 
heard  his  yap  this  watch,  but  he  was  busy  enough 
up  to  midnight." 

"  What  ship  is  this,"  asked  Dick,  "  and  where's 
she  bound?  " 

"  Mary  Earl,  o'  Bath,  Cap'n  Bilker,  o'  Cape  Cod. 
Ever  hear  o'  him?  First  mate's  another  Cape  Cod 
murderer,  and  second  mate's  a  bran'  new  bucko  just 
out  o'  the  boys'  room,  I  take  it — not  used  to  bossin* 
men,  an'  not  more'n  half  a  seaman,  but  a  jim-hickey 
with  his  fists.  Guess  you  an'  me  an'  yer  chum  are 
the  only  Americans  forrard.  We're  goin'  out  to 
Hong  Kong.  My  name's  Sawyer,  o'  Hoboken,  an* 
I  go  to  sea  to  keep  out  o'  Jersey.  How'd  ye  come 
to  be  shanghaied  ?  " 

"  Knockout  drops." 

"  That's  bad.  Stick  to  yer  own  boardin'-house. 
Ye'll  be  robbed  all  right,  anywhere,  but  yer  won't 


108  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

be  doped  if  yer  'greeable.  Guess  we'll  get  some 
coffee  soon — what  they  call  coffee,  I  mean ;  the  doc 
tor's  turned  out." 

Others  had  coiled  up  the  rest  of  the  gear  and 
the  two  went  forward,  Dick  observing  in  the  gath 
ering  light  that  Sawyer  was  a  tall,  loose- jointed 
man  with  a  hooked  nose  and  a  rather  humorous  cast 
of  countenance.  The  "  doctor  "  was  up,  smoke  was 
coming  from  the  galley  chimney,  and  the  watch  on 
deck  were  grouped  under  the  weather-rail  near  the 
fore  rigging,  evidently  waiting  for  the  early  coffee 
served  in  all  American  ships  at  "  turn-to."  The 
other  watch  had  gone  below,  but  as  Dick  joined  the 
group  the  ensign  appeared  at  the  forward  corner 
of  the  house  and  beckoned  to  him.  He  followed  to 
the  topsail-sheet  bitts  just  forward  of  the  fore 
mast,  and  here,  in  an  open  space  which  precluded 
listening,  Mr.  Breen  said  in  a  low  voice: — 

"  Know  anything  about  the  American  hellship, 
Halpin?" 

"  No,  sir — only  what  I've  heard." 

"  Drop  the  *  sir '  while  we're  here.  Fix  the  habit 
upon  you,  or  you'll  get  us  both  into  trouble.  This 
is  a  hellship,  and  the  hellship  is  the  blackest  shame 
resting  upon  America.  I've  had  enough — at  least, 
all  I  dare  to  risk.  I  went  aft  and  protested  to  the 
captain  when  they  roused  me  out  at  midnight, 
stating  that  I  was  a  naval  officer.  I  was  kicked 
around  the  poop-deck  and  thrown  down  to  the  main 
deck.  Believe  me?  Not  a  bit.  Thought  I  was 
drunk — and  to  tell  the  truth,  my  speech  at  the 
time  would  bear  out  such  a  construction.  We're  in 
rags.  I've  got  a  bagful  more  of  them,  and  suppose 
you  have,  too,  unless  some  one  has  stolen  them. 
Now,  this  much  I  know,  from  what  I  have  seen  and 


BARBARISM  109* 

heard :  the  mere  presence  in  the  forecastle  of  an  edu 
cated  man  is  a  continuous  menace  to  the  brutes  who 
command  and  officer  such  ships  as  this,  and  is  war 
rant  enough  for  them  to  murder  him ;  for  they  know 
that  he  is  apt  to  make  trouble  ashore.  As  the  law 
now  stands  they  can  punish  an  insolent  sailor  with 
a  blow,  and  if  he  returns  it,  they  may  kill  him.  I 
cannot  convince  them  of  my  identity — neither  can 
you.  So  I  shall  resent  no  insults  until  I  am  able  to 
act;  and  as  for  you,  do  as  you're  told,  keep  out  of 
trouble, — for  I  may  want  you  in  a  hurry, — keep 
your  mouth  shut,  call  me  by  my  last  name,  and  don't 
let  them  see  us  together  too  often." 

Before  Dick  could  reply  the  ensign  was  gone ; 
so  Dick  secured  another  man's  tin  pot  and  his  own 
share  of  the  coffee,  which  had  been  brought  to  the 
port  forecastle.  It  was  vile  stuff  to  begin  with,  and 
had  been  rendered  viler  by  the  molasses  stirred  in 
to  sweeten  it;  but  it  was  hot,  and  it  warmed  Dick's 
chilled  and  aching  body,  and  cleared  more  of  the 
fog  from  his  brain,  so  that  by  the  time  a  rasping 
"  Turn  to,  there.  Buckets  and  brooms.  Get  out 
that  deck-pump  forrard  there "  came  from  amid 
ships,  he  began  to  feel  a  lively  interest  in  the  speaker 
— the  man  who  had  dragged  him  from  his  sleep  and 
struck  him.  He  watched  the  giant  figure  lumbering 
forward,  and  even  stepped  into  his  path  for  a  better 
view  of  his  face.  He  knew  him.  It  was  Pig  Jones. 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

PIG  JONES,  four  years  older,  grown  to  man's 
physique,  and  with  the  facial  characteristics — 
slanting  forehead,  protruding  chin,  and  small  squint- 


110  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

ing  eyes — which  had  given  him  his  nickname  among 
the  boys,  developed  into  as  unpleasant  a  combination 
as  may  go  toward  the  make-up  of  the  human  coun 
tenance.  It  was  a  brutal,  sensual,  cruel  face — a  face 
bearing  a  standing  invitation  to  an  honest  fist,  one 
that  most  men  would  feel  pleasure  in  striking.  And 
as  Dick  backed  toward  the  bucket  rack  at  the  fore 
mast,  it  followed  him  with  a  leering  expression 
strongly  impregnated  with  curiosity,  wonder,  and 
doubt. 

"  Hey,  you ! "  he  cried,  in  a  tone  as  unpleasant 
as  his  face ;  "  you  the  man  I  pulled  out  at  eight 
bells?  What's  your  name?" 

"  Billson,  sir,"  answered  Dick,  remembering  the 
ensign's  injunction  as  to  caution,  and  influenced  in 
his  choice  of  a  name  by  the  momentary  comparison 
with  his  late  antagonist  which  the  officer's  giant 
figure  had  aroused. 

"  Billson,  hey  ?  You  look  bloody  like  a  plug-ugly 
I  went  to  school  with.  Look  out  ye  don't  look  more 
like  him,  or  I'll  take  it  out  o'  you." 

"  Aye,  aye,  sir,"  returned  Dick,  submissively, 
as  he  took  down  a  couple  of  buckets.  The 
officer  stepped  toward  him,  searching  his  im 
movable  face  for  any  hint  of  sarcasm  behind 
the  answer,  and  finding  none,  thundered  forceful 
objurgations  to  the  rest  to  "  get  that  deck-pump 
aft." 

In  the  washing  down  of  the  deck  that  morning 
the  second  mate  watched  Dick  continuously,  and  so 
impressed  him  with  his  suspicions  that,  when  oppor 
tunity  offered,  he  requested  Sawyer  to  tell  no  one 
that  he  was  a  man-of-war's-man ;  for  he  had  reason 
to  believe  that  Pig  had  known  of  his  choice  of  a 
career.  And  when  the  watch  turned  out  at  seven 


BARBARISM  111 

bells  he  apprised  the  ensign  of  his  change  of  name 
and  his  reasons. 

"  One  of  the  gang,  Halpin  ?  Well,  if  we  are  any 
good — you  and  I — you'll  have  a  chance  at  him  before 
long.  And  perhaps  not  with  your  fists.  I'll  do 
murder  before  I'll  submit  to  this.  Now,  Billson,  get 
to  work ;  here  comes  our  superior  officer." 

Mr.  Jones  was  coming  forward.  The  ensign 
stepped  into  the  forecastle  to  his  breakfast,  and  Dick 
resumed  his  deck-swabbing.  There  was  strong  cause 
for  the  ensign's  bitter  tone  and  murderous  mind. 
You  cannot  drug,  rob,  and  strip  a  naval  officer,  dress 
him  in  greasy  rags,  swear  at  him  and  kick  him  until 
he  is  willing  to  pull  wet,  hard  ropes  through  a  stormy 
mid-watch,  and  have  him  in  the  mood  of  the  gentle 
man — temperate  of  mind  and  refined  of  speech.  Dick 
was  now  the  milder  of  the  two.  At  eight  bells  his 
watch  was  relieved  and  he  went  to  breakfast, — 
manufactured  coffee  and  cracker  hash,  the  latter  an 
unsavory  mess  of  broken  hardtack  and  gristly  beef, 
soaked  over-night  and  baked  brown.  Confiscating  as 
his  own  a  last  voyage  pot  with  pan  and  spoon,  he 
helped  himself,  wondering,  as  he  forced  the  stuff 
down,  how  the  well-fed  ensign  had  succeeded;  and 
there  came  to  him  a  momentary  feeling  of  ungen 
erous  and  anarchistic  joy  that  this  pet  of  society  and 
the  government  knew  now  what  sailors  must  eat. 
The  mood  was  but  transient,  and  left  him  with  the 
filling  of  his  stomach,  so  that  when  a  loud  summons 
for  all  hands  to  muster  at  the  break  of  the  poop 
came  in  through  the  door,  he  walked  aft  with  the 
crowd  of  men,  fully  prepared  to  enter  into  any  de 
fensive  and  offensive  alliance  which  Mr.  Breen  might 
propose. 

He  had  rummaged  the  bedless  bunk  in  which  he 


112  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

slept  off  his  stupor,  finding  a  damp  canvas  bag  filled 
with  grimy  working  clothes,  and  a  damp  and  greasy 
cap,  which  he  had  donned;  but  there  was  no  time 
to  change  the  rags  he  wore — drenched  by  the  storm 
in  the  ride  down  in  the  tug — for  dry  ones,  and  he 
stood  in  that  disheveled  crew  perhaps  the  sorriest 
looking  of  all.  The  carpenter  seemed  prosperous, 
and  the  cook  shone  in  immaculate  white;  but  the 
men  were  badly  blessed,  by  nature  and  fate.  Here 
and  there  showed  a  clean  article  of  apparel, — a  new 
cap  or  hat,  shaming  the  garments  beneath,  a  new 
pair  of  rubber  boots,  a  new  sou'wester  or  a  new 
sheath-knife  and  belt.  But  aside  from  these  they 
wore  the  patched,  fringed,  and  tar-bespoiled  gar 
ments  of  their  last  voyage,  and  on  each  face  was 
a  common  expression  of  earnestness  and  hopelessness. 
Over  their  heads  arose  the  Roman  nose  and  humor 
ous  eye  of  Sawyer,  and  in  the  front  rank  stood 
Ensign  Breen  of  the  United  States  navy,  pictur 
esque  in  his  vestments,  and  with  a  countenance  as 
woebegone  as  it  is  possible  for  a  shanghaied  grad 
uate  of  Annapolis  to  assume.  The  steward  was  at 
the  wheel,  and  scowling  down  on  them  from  the  poop 
were  Air.  Jones  and  a  gray-bearded  man  who  wore 
a  slouch  hat  and  long  pilotcloth  overcoat,  in 
the  pockets  of  which  he  kept  his  hands.  They 
needed  no  introduction  to  know  the  captain  of 
the  ship.  He  slowly  scanned  each  of  the  twenty 
men's  faces,  paced  a  few  turns  fore  and  aft  on 
the  poop,  then  brought  himself  up  squarely 
against  the  monkey-rail,  his  hands  still  in  his 
pockets. 

"  My  name's  Bilker,"  he  said  slowly  and  im 
pressively;  then,  after  a  moment's  silence,  he  re 
peated  in  a  louder  voice,  "  my  name's  Bilker." 


BARBARISM  113 

The  men  shuffled  their  feet  uneasily  under  his 
stare,  but  none  answered. 

"  I'm  John  Bilker,  o'  Provincetown,"  continued 
the  captain,  "  and  I've  sailed  ships  out  o'  N'York 
and  Boston  for  twenty-five  years;  and  I  'low  that 
in  all  that  time  I  never  let  any  measly  gang  o'  gen 
tlemen  rope-haulers  get  the  best  o'  me.  You  hear 

me?  You  hear  what  I  say,  you pack  o'  poor 

men's  dogs." 

He  took  another  walk  along  the  deck  and  re 
turned.  Dick  glanced  over  at  the  ensign  to  note  the 
effect  of  this  language  on  him;  but  his  dejected  faee 
was  non-committal. 

"  In  all  my  goin'  to  sea,"  went  on  the  captain, 
his  voice  rising,  "  I  never  seen  a  worse  lot  o'  beach 
combers  and  river-thieves.  There  ain't  a  whole  man 
among  you — there  ain't  half  a  man ;  but  there's  a 
murderin'  scoundrel  among  you  that  I  want.  Last 
night,  along  'bout  six  bells  o'  the  middle  watch,  my 
first  officer,  all  fagged  out  from  tryin'  to  get  sail 
on  a  ship  with  a  crew  that  don't  know  a  buntline 
from  a  sheet,  was  woke  up  by  a  sneakin'  thief  goin* 
through  his  desk.  Yes,  sir — a  sneakin',  bloody- 
minded  thief  that  tried  to  kill  him,  too,  'fore  he  got 
thoroughly  woke  up.  Then  he  ran  out  on  deck  and 
forrard  to  the  rest  o'  you.  And  that  pore  man  is 
down  there  groanin',  with  his  arm  broken  at  the 
elbow,  while  the  murderin'  thief  that  done  it  is  among 
you,  laughin'  in  his  sleeve,  and  wishin'  he'd  finished 
his  bloody  work.  Now,  I  want  that  man  to  step  out 
and  own  up." 

Not  a  man  stirred.  They  looked  at  one  another 
with  inquiry  in  their  faces,  then  up  at  their  captain, 
only  to  fall  back,  crouching,  and  scattering  to  the 
right  and  left,  with  involuntary  raising  of  arms  to 


MASTERS  OF  MEN 

screen  their  faces.  Bilker  had  brought  his  hands 
out  of  his  pockets,  and  in  each  was  a  bright  revolver. 

"  Shove  him  out,"  he  thundered  as  he  leveled  the 
pistols.  "  Give  up  that  low-down  scoundrel.  I'll 
show  him  what  he  can  do  and  what  he  can't  do. 
Quick,  you dock  rats,  or  I'll  hurt  some  o'  you." 

"  Hold  on,  Cap'n,"  said  Sawyer. 

"Are  you  the  man?     Come  out  here." 

"  No,  Cap'n,  I'm  not,"  said  the  sailor,  stepping 
bravely  up  to  the  poop  steps.  "  I'm  no  thief,  an' 
if  I  was,  I  wouldn't  be  fool  enough — hold  on,  sir; 
I  wish  you'd  point  'em  t'other  way,  sir.  They 
might  go  off.  What  I  want  to  say,  Cap'n,  if  ye'll 
'xcuse  me,  is  that  yer  takin'  a  mighty  poor  way  to 
get  that  thief,  whoever  he  is.  Ye  begin  by  damnin' 
us  all  'round,  an'  that  naf  rally  wqfrks  men  up 
against  ye,  and  then  ye  pull  yer  guns.  Now,  what 
man's  goin'  to  own  up  in  the  face  o'  threats  o'  bein' 
shot?" 

"  None  o*  your  back  lip.  Don't  you  talk  to  me. 
Come  up  here  on  the  poop.  I  swear  I  think  you 
know  all  about  it." 

Sawyer  ascended  the  steps,  was  collared  by  Mr. 
Jones,  and  hurled  against  the  forward  cabin  com 
panion,  near  which  he  remained,  with  the  second 
officer  watching  him  out  of  the  corner  of  his  eye. 

"  Where's  that  counter-jumper  who  comes  aft 
when  work's  goin'  on  swearin'  he's  an  officer  in  the 
navy?"  demanded  the  captain.  His  eye  wandered 
over  the  crowd  and  settled  on  Mr.  Breen. 

"You  the  man?"  he  inquired,  straightening  one 
pistol  toward  him. 

"  It  might  have  been  me,  sir,"  answered  the  en 
sign,  mournfully.  "  Please  don't  shoot  me,  sir.  I 
had  dreams,  sir.  I  have  been  drugged  and  kidnapped 


BARBARISM  115 

on  this  boat,  sir,  but  I  haven't  done  any  harm,  sir." 

Dick  was  astounded,  but  held  himself  together; 
and  the  captain,  searching  keenly  the  sorrowful  face 
beneath  his  gun,  said :  "  Dreams  ?  What  you  drivin' 
at?" 

"  I've  always  dreamed,  sir,  that  I  was  an  officer 
in  the  navy,  and  I  was  having  such  a  dream  when 
I  waked  up  on  that  stage  up  there,  sir,  and  you 
were  kicking  me." 

"  You're  ho  sailor.    What's  your  trade?  " 

"  I'm  a  gentleman's  man,  sir." 

"  What?  "  roared  the  captain. 

"  A  gentleman's  man,  sir — a  valet.  I  cook  welsh 
rabbits  late  at  night  for  my  master,  and  I  wake 
him  up  in  the  morning,  and  see  to  his  bawth,  and 
sometimes  I  shave  him,  and  I  always  have  to  press 
his  trousers,  and  answer  the  bell — " 

"  That  is,  you're  a  flunkey." 

"  That's  what  they  call  us  in  England,  sir." 

"  Well,"  answered  the  Captain,  thoughtfully  and 
contemptuously,  "  I  guess  you  didn't  break  my  first 
mate's  arm."  He  put  his  pistols  in  his  pockets  and 
turned  to  Sawyer. 

"  You  an  American  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,  an  American,"  answered  Sawyer,  vehe 
mently.  "  An  American  and  an  able  seaman ;  and 
I've  held  command — I'm  no  fool  to  break  into  a  first 
mate's  room  in  this  kind  of  a  ship  'fore  I'm  twenty- 
four  hours  aboard." 

"  Held  command  ?    What  in  ?  " 

"  Sound  schooners,  sir.  I'm  no  navigator,  but 
I'm  no  fool  thief — " 

"  Get  down  on  deck.  Find  out  who  broke  Mr. 
Thorpe's  arm  and  I'll  make  you  third  mate." 

Sawyer    answered     respectfully     and     descended, 


116  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

while  Captain  Bilker  ordered  Mr.  Jones  to  set  the 
fore  and  mizzen  topgallant  sails,  relieve  the  steward 
at  the  wheel,  and  dismiss  the  starboard  watch.  No 
doubt  Sawyer's  logic  had  convinced  him. 

Later  on  Sawyer  said  to  Dick :  "  Make  me  third 
mate,  would  he?  If  I  knew  the  hero  that  broke 
that  man-driver's  arm,  I'd  be  a  father  to  him." 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

DICK  would  have  talked  further  with  Mr.  Breen 
before  turning  in,  but,  on  looking  around  for 
him,  discovered  that  he  was  aft  at  the  wheel;  so  he 
changed  his  clothes,  arranged  what  was  dry  of  his 
baggage  beneath  and  above  him  for  bedding,  and 
slept  until  noon,  waking  at  the  stroke  of  eight  bells 
practically  recovered  from  the  effects  of  the  drug. 
On  going  aft  to  the  galley  at  Sawyer's  sleepy  com 
mand  from  an  upper  bunk  to  "  get  the  grub, 
youngster,"  he  found  that  Mr.  Breen  had  suffered 
later  injury  which  had  not  yet  come  to  him.  He 
was  at  the  galley  door  sawing  wood  for  the  cook, 
and  his  handsome  face  was  disfigured  by  a  black  eye. 

"  Kicked  and  thumped  away  from  the  wheel  for 
bad  steering  and  for  not  knowing  the  compass,"  he 
said  cautiously,  in  answer  to  Dick's  look  of  inquiry. 
"  Inconvenient  and  unpleasant,  but  necessary ;  I'm 
an  ignorant  landsman.  Remember  your  part:  do 
your  work,  as  a  sailor,  and  avoid  all  trouble.  See 
me  in  the  last  dog-watch.  Go  ahead,  now.  Get  your 
dinner." 

He  shifted  the  stick  of  cordwood  along  the  saw- 
buck  and  sawed;  for  Sawyer — unknown  by  him — 
was  coming  to  help  Dick  bring  the  dinner.  At  the 


BARBARISM  117 

same  time  the  carpenter,  with  a  bundle  of  oakum 
under  his  arm  and  a  heavy  calking  mallet  over  his 
shoulder,  appeared  around  the  corner  of  the  house 
on  the  way  to  his  shop,  just  forward  of  the  galley. 
The  carpenter  paused  before  the  pile  of  wood  at 
the  moment  the  cook's  black  face  appeared  in  the 
galley  door.  He  was  a  particularly  evil-faced  negro, 
and  the  geniality  of  his  race  seemed  denied  him;  for 
he  looked  sourly  at  Sawyer  and  Dick,  saying: — 

"  Don't  stand  'round  my  door  axin'  fool  quesh- 
uns,  now.  Dah's  you  poke  an'  peas — gov'ment 
whack  fo'  all  han's  fo'ward  till  you  gibs  up  de  t'ief. 
Take  it  an'  gwan." 

"  What's  this  ? "  asked  Sawyer,  angrily,  as  he 
sniffed  the  mess  in  the  dishpan  handed  out  to  him. 
**  Government  'lowance  ain't  much  worse  than  the 
regular  thing;  but  why  don't  you  sift  out  the  mag 
gots  'fore  you  cook  up  last  v'yage  peas  ?  " 

"  Don't  you  talk  to  me,  you  no  'count  trash. 
Don't  you  tell  me  how  to  cook,  or  I  cut  you  all  up ; 
you  see?  " 

He  reached  behind  him  and  showed  a  sharp 
carving  knife;  and  the  fuming  Sawyer  went  forward 
with  his  pan,  while  Dick  cautiously  picked  up  the 
pan  of  boiled  salt  pork.  Turning  with  it,  he  beheld 
the  carpenter,  a  large,  bewhiskered,  and  dyspeptic- 
looking  Scotchman,  with  his  hand  on  Mr.  Breen's 
collar.  He  had  dropped  the  bundle  of  oakum,  but 
still  held  the  calking  mallet,  while  the  cook  still  held 
the  knife.  Dick  set  down  the  pan. 

"  Ye  thunderin'  loon,"  roared  the  big  carpenter 
in  the  ear  of  the  slimly  built  ensign,  "  an'  why  do 
ye  no  go  aft  to  the  poop  wi'  yer  tools  an5  material. 
Wha  put  ye  here,  to  scar  up  a  good  deck  an'  mak' 
work  for  a  mon  wi'  plenty  to  do  ?  "  He  gave  him 


118  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

a  shake,  then  flung  him  against  the  rail.  Dick 
waited  for  orders. 

"  If  you  please,  sir,"  said  the  ensign, — and  only 
Dick  could  detect  the  quiver  of  rage  in  the  humble 
accents, — "  I  was  told  by  the  captain  to  saw  wood 
for  this  gentleman,  and  he  told  me  to  saw  it 
here." 

"He  did?  An'  say,"  he  said  to  the  cook;  "d'ye 
ken  na  mair  o'  the  value  o'  good  plankin'  than  to 
sanction  this  ?  " 

Out  came  the  cook,  his  eyes  gleaming  and  carving 
knife  gripped  tight. 

"  Don't  you  come  'round  inte'ferin'  'tween  me  an' 
my  boy,"  he  said.  "  He's  my  boy,  an'  he's  gwine  to 
saw  my  wood  whenebber  I  want  him.  You  hear? 
An'  he's  gwine  to  saw  it  jess  where  I  tell  him,  too ; 
an'  if  you  don't  lak  it,  you  go  aft  an'  talk  to  de 
skipper." 

"  I'll  talk  to  the  skipper,  nae  doot,"  answered  the 
carpenter,  steadily,  as  he  eyed  the  flourished  knife; 
"  but  the  question  now  is,  are  ye  threatenin'  me  wi' 
that  weepon?  If  ye  are,  I'll  get  along  without  him. 
Put  it  doon."  He  advanced  toward  the  cook. 

"  Keep  away  dere,  sah,"  stormed  the  negro,  as  he 
raised  the  knife  high  over  his  head.  "  I's  a  peace 
able  man  till  I's  'roused,  but  I's  been  a  bad  man  in 
my  time.  You  hear — " 

The  calking  mallet  struck  him  squarely  over  the 
eyes.  It  was  a  cylinder  of  lignum  vitas,  about  fifteen 
inches  in  length  and  three  in  diameter,  banded  at 
the  ends  with  iron,  and  fitted  with  a  small  foot-long 
handle  at  its  middle.  Any  one  who  has  seen  a  ship- 
carpenter  or  calker  at  work  can  understand  the 
development  and  mobility  of  the  wrist-muscles 
brought  into  play,  and  with  these  muscles  alone  the 


BARBARISM  119 

carpenter  had  sped  the  mallet  from  his  shoulder 
with  the  speed  and  accuracy  of  an  Indian's  toma 
hawk.  The  cook  went  down,  but  arose  in  a  moment, 
smiling, — or,  rather,  grinning, — and  looked  wildly 
about  for  his  knife,  which  had  dropped  from  his 
hand. 

"  Fair  exchange  is  nae  rubbery,"  said  the  car 
penter,  coolly,  as  he  twirled  the  knife  by  its  handle, 
"  an'  I  thout  I'd  trade  weepons  wi'  ye ;  but  if  ye'd 
have  mine  ye  maun  go  over  the  seed  for  it.  It  war 
no  constructed  for  armor-piercin',  an'  caroomed  on 
yer  superstructure.  Get  ye  into  yer  galley,  ye 
Bwine,  or  I'll  mak  shark  bait  o'  ye.  An'  I'll  e'en 
report  ye  to  the  skipper  an'  keep  yer  toothpick  for 
scrappers."  He  stepped  forward,  but  the  cook  re 
treated  into  the  galley. 

"What's  up  here?"  asked  the  second  mate,  ap 
pearing  on  the  scene. 

"What's  up,  sir?"  answered  Chips,  as  he  turned. 
"  I  war  expostulatin'  wi'  this  Senegambian  about  the 
condeetion  o'  the  deck  gin  his  wood-sawyer  gets 
through,  an'  he  come  oot  wi'  his  assegai;  an'  I've 
lost  my  best  corkin'  mallet — " 

"  Take  this  stuff  forrard,"  said  the  officer  to 
Breen,  the  sleep  of  his  late  watch  below  still  in  his 
eyes.  "  Don't  ye  know  any  more'n  to  saw  hard 
wood  over  a  bare  deck?  " — his  voice  was  rising — 
"  Hey  ?  Don't  ye  know  any  more'n  that  ? "  he 
shouted,  now  thoroughly  awake.  "  Get  that  dunnage 
on  the  fore  hatch,  spread  it  out,  an'  pile  this  wood 
on  it  'fore  ye  do  any  more."  He  aimed  a  kick  at 
Breen,  who  dodged  it  by  an  inch  and  went  forward 
with  his  saw  and  sawhorse. 

"  What  are  you  doin'  here?  "  demanded  Mr.  Jones 
of  Dick. 


120  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

"  After  the  dinner,  sir,"  he  answered,  picking  up 
the  pan  of  pork. 

"  Did  he  have  any  hand  in  this,  Chips?  " 

"  No,  sir.     Merely  a  non-combatant  spectator." 

"  Get  out  o'  this,"  he  said,  and  then,  to  the  car 
penter:  "  Chips,  you're  to  keep  yer  hands  off  other 
people,  an'  yer  nose  out  their  business.  I'll  see  to 
the  men,  an'  I'll  do  the  fightin'.  That's  what  I'm 
here  for.  Give  the  doctor  his  knife." 

"  Vera  good,  Mr.  Jones ;  but  I'll  no  stand  quiet 
'fore  a  knife,  I'll  assure  ye  o'  that."  And  the  knife 
whirled  through  the  door  and  rattled  on  the  brick 
flooring  of  the  galley. 

"  All  right ;  an',  Doctor,  you  keep  off  the  deck, 
or  ye'll  have  me  foul  o'  you." 

"  Yes,  sah,"  answered  the  cook  from  within. 

The  dignified  peacemaker  went  aft,  Chips  entered 
his  shop  with  his  bundle  of  oakum,  and  the  incident 
ended ;  but  it  was  apparent  to  all  who  had  seen,  that 
henceforward  there  would  be  little  of  human 
brotherhood  between  the  carpenter  and  the  cook. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 

*'\]I7HAT  kep'  ye  so  long,  younker? "  asked 
V  V  Sawyer,  as  Dick  entered  with  the  pork. 
His  eight  watchmates  were  seated,  on  boxes,  buckets, 
and  chests,  around  the  dishpan,  picking  at  what 
they  had  taken  out.  He  placed  the  pork  on  the  floor, 
seated  himself  on  a  bucket,  and  helped  himself  to 
the  soup. 

"  Scrap,"  he  answered.     "  Chips  floored  the  cook 
with  a  calking  mallet." 


BARBARISM 

"What  for?" 

"  Cook  came  out  with  his  knife.  What  kind  of 
provender  is  this,  anyhow?  Regular  thing?  " 

"  Government  allowance ;  but  the  government  don't 
prescribe  that  it  must  be  good." 

"  I  heave  the  whole  bloody  lot  out  der  door,"  said 
a  red-faced  German,  arising  with  his  pan. 

"  Steady  as  you  go,  there,  Dutch,"  said  Sawyer. 
"  Ye'll  only  have  to  lick  it  up  in  yer  watch  below. 
Sit  down." 

Dutch  subsided,  and  Dick  spooned  off  a  portion 
of  the  fat  pork.  It  quivered  like  jelly  and  filled 
the  forecastle  with  its  odor.  Nor  did  its  appearance 
speak  well  for  it ;  it  was  pale,  greasy  yellow,  speckled 
with  green. 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Dick,  sitting  back  against 
the  bunk  behind  him.  "  I  can  eat  this  when  I'm 
hungry  enough,  but  not  yet." 

"  Plenty  o'  hardbread  in  the  barge,"  said  Sawyer ; 
"  we'll  get  our  pound  a  day  when  it's  gone ;  so  go 
easy." 

Dick  munched  hardbread, — which  happened  to  be 
fresh, — and  the  example  being  set,  one  by  one  the 
men  dumped  their  portions  of  peas  into  the  dishpan 
and  followed  suit.  They  were  a  cosmopolitan  crowd, 
representative  of  most  maritime  nations,  and  had  al 
ready  learned  each  other's  names.  Dick  had  given 
them  his  alias.  Besides  Sawyer,  of  Hoboken,  there 
were  the  excitable  German,  Wagner,  a  fair-haired 
Swede  named  Swanson,  a  thin-faced,  swarthy  Span 
iard  who  gave  the  name  of  Pedro,  and  an  equally 
thin-faced  and  swarthy  Frenchman  named  Frank, 
Winskel,  a  Russian,  Peter,  a  West  Indian  negro, 
and  Smith,  a  little,  stoop-shouldered  cockney  with 
a  villainous  accent, 


MASTERS  OF  MEN 

"  We'U  get  this,"  said  Sawyer,  "  until  we  tell  the 
skipper  who  done  up  the  mate  last  night." 

"  Who  it  was  ?  "  asked  Wagner. 

"  Don't  know,  an'  don't  care ;  wouldn't  tell  if  I 
did  know.  But  it  was  none  o'  this  watch,  you  bet. 
Billscn's  the  only  man  I'd  suspect,  and  he  was  dopy 
all  night."  Sawyer  looked  around  rather  contemptu 
ously. 

"  Well,  Hi'll  be  jiggered  if  Hi  can  stand  much 
o'  this  sort  o'  chuck,"  whined  Smith.  "  Wot's  a 
man  goin'  to  do,  hany  'ow?  Gimme  bellyful,  Hi 
say,  an'  then  Hi  can  work  wi'  the  next  man ;  but 
wot  can  any  bloomin'  bloke  do  hif  'alf  starved.  Hi'm 
one  for  going  haft  an'  tellin'  the  hold  man  wot  he 
his." 

"  Oh,  shut  up !  Ye'd  give  a  shipmate  away 
quick  enough,  but  ye  wouldn't  face  anybody 
aft." 

"  Wouldn't  Hi?  Just  make  up  the  crowd  to  back 
me,  Hi  say,  an'  Hi'll  do  the  talkin',"  said  Smith, 
arising  bravely  to  his  feet ;  "  an'  hif  ye  can't  f oiler 
me,  Hi  might  'ave  somethin'  to  say  habout  who 
done  hit."  He  looked  steadily  at  Sawyer,  and  the 
long  Jerseyite  also  stood  erect.  He  collared  the 
cockney,  shook  him  a  little,  smote  him  with  the  open 
hand  on  one  ear,  changed  hands  and  smote  the  other, 
then  sat  him  down  hard  on  a  chest. 

"  If  I'd  gone  far  enough  to  tackle  the  mate,"  he 
said,  sternly,  "  I'd  ha'  gone  farther,  an'  been  in  irons 
'fore  this.  Now,  sing  small.  You  know  that  it  takes 
a  better  lot  o'  men  than  this  crowd  to  go  aft  with 
any  kind  o'  bluff.  You  know  what  it  means,  in  a 
Yankee  ship,  to  go  aft  with  a  kick  about  grub  or 
anything  else.  Ye'll  get  cothin'  but  abuse,  and  if 
ye  stick  out,  ye'll  get  buckshot." 


BARBARISM  123 

The  cockney  was  rather  dazed,  and  remained  quiet 
until  he  recovered. 

"  I  don't  know  'bout  dot,"  said  Wagner,  puffing 
vigorously  to  give  draught  to  his  pipe.  "  In  my 
last  ship  we  go  aft  und  we  kick  about  der  duff  dot 
had  no  plooms  by  it,  an'  der  skipper,  he  coom  down, 
an'  he  look,  an'  he  give  hell  to  der  steward,  an'  we 
get  plooms." 

"  What  country  ship  was  it?  "  demanded  Sawyer, 

"  English— Dunlock  Castle" 

"  The  difference  'tween  heaven  and  hell.  This 
is  a  Yankee  ship  with  a  Yankee  skipper  an'  mates. 
I'm  a  Yankee — at  least,  an  American — an'  kinder 
proud  o'  my  country;  but  I'm  not  proud  o'  some 
o*  the  products,  an'  I'd  rather  be  in  hell  without 
claws  than  aboard  of  a  Yankee  ship  wi'  the  mates 
down  on  me.  Don't  talk  to  me  'bout  goin'  aft  'less 
yer  ready  to  murder  the  after-guard  an'  take  the 
ship.  What  then?  Can  ye  navigate?  Is  there  a 
man  here  that  can  even  cook  the  grub?  Not  one. 
S'pose  ye  could.  Only  a  matter  o'  time  when  ye'd 
hang.  They  always  get  ye.  But  ye  couldn't  get 
that  far.  Think  of  it:  here's  the  skipper  with  his 
shotgun  and  pistols,  the  big  second  mate — mate  now 
— steward  with  a  gun  in  his  fist,  Chips  with  his 
broad-axe,  an'  the  cook  with  a  knife.  An'  the  cook's 
a  whole  team  by  himself.  Made  a  knife-play  on  me 
'cause  I  kicked.  What  did  Chips  do,  Billson?  " 

"  Made  a  row  over  the  woodpile  scarring  the  deck, 
and  ill-treated  the  cook's  assistant." 

"  There  ye  are.  Unless  ye're  ready  to  kill  that 
cook,  kill  the  second  mate — any  one  here  like  to  try 
that? — kill  Chips,  an'  kill  the  skipper,  ye  might  as 
well  shut  up  'bout  goin'  aft  with  a  kick." 

"  I  know  dat  cook,"  said  Peter,  the  West  Indian. 


MASTERS  OF  MEN 

*  He  don'  'member  me,  but  I  'member  him.  I  see 
um  in  Havana ;  take  um  three  policemens  put  him  in 
jail." 

"  Ver'  bad  temper,  zat  cook,"  said  Frank ;  "  zis 
morning  I  get  ze  coffee,  and  he  say  I  get  out  or 
he  scald  me.  What  for?  I  do  not  know." 

"  Tell  him  to  soak  his  head." 

"  No.  What  for  ?  I  take  ze  coffee — I  get  out. 
It  is  not  pleasawnt  to  be  scald." 

"  I  was  in  a  bark  out  o'  Baltimore,"  said  Swanson, 
the  Swede,  "  and  der  cook  was  a  nigger  like  dis, 
and  he  give  us  all  der  goot  t'ings  he  steal  from  der 
steward ;  and  den  he  take  care  and  shake  out  der 
weevils  from  der  bread  'fore  he  soak,  and  he  boil 
der  beef  in  fresh  water,  and  he  steal  dat  water — " 

"And  what'd  ye  do  for  the  cook?"  demanded 
Sawyer,  with  a  grin. 

"  Oh,  we  bring  his  coal  from  der  fore  peak,  and 
shop  his  wood,  and  wash  his  shirts — " 

"  Like  a  slave,"  interrupted  the  disgusted  Dick. 
"  D'ye  call  yourself  a  man?  Say,  Sawyer,  admit 
ting  that  the  after-guard  runs  the  watch  on  deck, 
does  the  cook  run  the  watch  below  in  these  ships? 
Does  the  cook  do  as  he  likes?  Hasn't  he  a  boss?  " 

"  Steward." 

"  And  is  the  steward  responsible  for  the  way  our 
grub  is  served — responsible  for  this  ?  "  He  pointed 
to  the  pan  of  pea  soup. 

"  Partly.  But  I  reckon  our  steward  don't  dictate 
much  to  this  cook.  Notice  him?  He  ain't  bigger'n 
a  pint  o'  cider." 

"  Ya-as,  it  was  der  steward,"  said  Wagner.  "  He 
tell  der  doctor  to  give  us  our  whack.  Der  old  man 
didn't  say  notting." 

"  Well,  Hi'll  tell  yer  wot  Hi'm  goin'  to  do,"  said 


BARBARISM  125 

the  rejuvenated  Smith.  "  Hi'm  goin'  to  bryke  his 
blcomin'  fyce  in  first  time  Hi  catch  'im  forrard  o' 
the  galley  door." 

"  I  yump  on  him  mineself,"  added  Swanson,  ap 
provingly. 

"  And  I'll  '  yump '  on  you  if  you  do,"  said  Saw 
yer.  "  Steward  isn't  to  blame." 

"  Yes,  it  wass  ze  steward,"  said  the  Frenchman. 
"  He  weigh  out  ze  beef  and  ze  pork ;  he  give  ze  cook 
his  ordaire.  We  mus'  punish  ze  steward  for  zis." 

Pedro,  the  Spaniard,  and  Winskel,  the  Russian, 
understood  English  better  than  they  spoke  it;  and 
their  approving  nods  and  gestures  added  to  the  stew 
ard's  indictment.  But  before  they  had  formulated 
a  plan  of  punishment  one  bell  (half-past  twelve) 
sounded  on  deck,  and  they  went  out  to  relieve  the 
other  watch,  Dick  consistently  carrying  back  to  the 
galley  the  dinner  he  had  brought — the  pork  dumped 
into  the  pea  soup  and  the  full  pan  fitted  into  the 
empty. 

As  he  passed  the  carpenter  shop,  Chips,  who  stood 
in  the  door  with  a  sober  countenance,  halted  him 
by  a  gesture. 

"  Ye  war  a  weetness,  young  man,  war  ye  not," 
he  said,  "  o'  that  cook's  ungovernable  temper  and 
unwarranted  assault  upon  me?  Leesten;  hark  ye 
to  that.  Heard  ye  ever  the  like  of  it?  He's  been 
a-grindin'  an'  a-sharpenin'  of  his  knife  gone  fifteen 
meenutes ;  an'  I  vara  much  fear  that  it's  for  me." 
Chips's  bilious  face  took  on  a  serio-comic  expression 
of  terror  which  brought  a  grin  to  Dick's;  but  he 
listened,  and  heard  the  "  wheese,  wheech  "  of  a  knife 
grating  on  a  butcher's  steel  in  the  galley. 

"  He's  after  you,  Chips,"  he  said,  as  he  passed  on. 
"  You're  done  for."  The  knife-grinding  ceased  as 


1£6  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

}ffi  stopped  at  the  galley  door,  and  the  cook  ap 
peared — with  empty  hands. 

"  You  take  dat  stuff  back,"  he  snarled,  as  Tie 
looked  at  the  contents  of  the  pan.  "  What  you  t'ink 
I  want  wi'  dat?  Dump  it  overboa'd." 

"  Dump  it  yourself,"  answered  Dick,  forgetting 
the  ensign's  injunction  to  avoid  friction  in  his  resent 
ment  of  the  cook's  manner  and  tone. 

"Wha'yousay?    Hey?    You  talk  lak  dat  to  me?  " 

Dick  still  held  the  dishpans  in  his  hands ;  and  as 
the  villainous  black  face  leaned  toward  him — the 
teeth  bared,  the  eyes  glittering,  and  the  angry  con 
tusion  in  the  middle  of  the  forehead  rising  high  out 
of  a  network  of  wrinkles  and  swollen  veins — he 
obeyed  an  impulse  born  of  anger,  racial  hatred,  and 
disgust.  He  lifted  the  pans,  tilted  them,  and  pushed 
them  bodily  toward  the  evil  face  before  him.  They 
landed  squarely,  and  the  cook  was  deluged  with  the 
Hiess ;  it  ran  down  his  face  and  neck  and  flooded  the 
floor,  and  as  he  blindly  struck  the  pans  from  his 
head,  he  slipped  and  fell.  By  this  time  Dick  was 
far  away — around  the  forward  corner  of  the  house 
with  his  watchmates,  receiving  instructions  from 
Mr.  Jones.  It  was  an  exploit  that  brought  a  glance 
of  disapproval  from  the  ensign  as  Dick  sped  past 
his  woodpile,  but  joy  inexpressible  to  the  dyspeptic 
carpenter,  who  had  witnessed  from  his  door.  As  for 
Dick,  he  thought  only  of  consequences — which  was 
natural. 


CHAPTER  XXIX 


(ICK  worked  in  the  rigging  all  that  afternoon, 
and,  though  within  shouting  distance  of  Mr. 
Jones,  he  was  surprised  at  the  absence  of  any  com- 


D 


BARBARISM  127 

ment  or  criticism  from  the  officer,  who,  throughout 
the  whole  watch,  spoke  harshly  to  the  others.  Per 
haps  this  was  because  he  was  doing  his  work  prop 
erly — perhaps  because  Mr.  Jones  and  the  carpenter 
ate  together  at  the  second  cabin  table,  and  at  dinner 
the  latter  had  told  how  Dick  had  ducked  the  cook. 
He  was  strongly  confirmed  in  the  latter  guess  when, 
from  his  perch  aloft,  he  saw  the  officer  pause  at  the 
galley  door,  where  the  cook,  half  in  and  half  out, 
declaimed  to  him  with  violent  gesticulation.  Dick 
could  not  hear,  but  when  the  angry  black  face,  shiny 
with  soap,  was  turned  up  to  him  and  a  grimy  black 
forefinger  pointed  at  him,  he  had  no  doubt  that  he 
was  the  subject  of  conversation.  Mr.  Jones  merely 
pushed  the  cook  into  the  galley  and  went  away. 

The  storm  had  passed,  and,  though  the  wind  was 
still  out  of  the  west,  there  was  no  chance  for  the 
sea  to  rise  very  high  so  close  to  land,  and  the  ship, 
with  all  sail  set,  was  riding  smoothly  out  to  sea. 
It  was  famous  weather  for  work.  At  three  bells  the 
watch  below  was  turned  out — Ensign  Breen  going 
wearily  back  to  his  woodpile — and  by  supper  time 
the  two  anchors  were  stowed  inboard,  the  cables  sent 
below,  with  fenders,  mooring  chains,  gangway  davits 
and  grating,  and  nearly  all  the  chafing  gear  was  aloft 
and  in  place.  Through  it  all,  Dick,  working  at  sea- 
manly  tasks,  looked  down  on  his  officer  sawing  wood. 
At  first  he  felt  an  ungenerous  pleasure,  due  to  his 
bitterness  of  heart ;  then  he  wondered  at  the  ensign's 
courage  in  choosing  so  hard  a  part,  and  at  his  forti 
tude  in  playing  it,  and  at  last  he  felt  an  honest, 
manly  indignation,  based  upon  his  training  and  re 
spect  for  an  officer  of  the  navy.  As  he  came  down 
to  his  supper  at  three  bells  in  the  first  dog-watch, 
the  haggard  look  in  the  ensign's  face  and  his  slow, 


128  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

deliberate  movements  in  piling  the  wood  he  had  sawed 
moved  Dick  to  an  explosive  burst. 

"  Say  the  word,  sir,"  he  said  between  his  teeth  as 
he  halted  before  him,  "  and  I'll  brain  them  both  with 
a  handspike.  I  can  do  it — one  at  a  time." 

"  You  cannot,"  answered  Breen,  wearily.  "  You 
might  disable  one,  but  the  other  would  shoot  you. 
And  if  you  did  succeed — what  then?  Anarchy 
among  the  men.  That  could  be  quelled  with  powder 
and  shot;  but  the  final  result — you  would  hang, 
and  I  could  not  save  you.  Leave  it  to  me.  I  am 
working  it  out,  and  they  do  not  hang  government 
officers." 

Dick  went  to  supper.  There  was  some  villainous 
tea,  sweetened  with  molasses,  which  he  drank,  and 
a  lump  of  cold,  fat,  salt  pork  which  neither  he  nor  the 
rest  could  touch.  The  whole  watch  vented  their  feel 
ings  in  profanity,  and  vowed  dire  vengeance  on  the 
after-guard ;  but  little  of  it  found  form  or  expression 
except  in  Smith's  avowed  determination  to  "  bryke 
the  bloomin'  steward's  fyce,"  and  they  supped  as 
they  had  dined — on  hardtack. 

Work  was  done  for  the  day  when  they  stepped 
out  at  four  bells.  The  other  watch  had  cleared 
lip  the  deck,  and  near  the  fore  hatch  Breen's  wood 
pile  showed  white  and  symmetrical  in  the  gathering 
gloom  of  the  chilly  evening.  Dick  sat  upon  it, 
while  his  watchmates  paced  the  deck  under  the 
lee  of  the  weather  rail.  In  a  short  time  the  ensign 
came  out  munching  a  biscuit.  As  he  seated  himself 
by  Dick's  side  there  came  a  sound  from  the  galley. 
"  Wheese,  wheech." 

"Hear  that,  Halpin — Billson,  I  mean?"  he  said, 
Wearily.  "  It's  been  going  all  the  afternoon.  It's 
for  the  carpenter,  if  it  isn't  for  you.  What  made 


BARBARISM 

you  douse  him  with  the  soup?  You've  made  an 
enemy." 

"  And  a  friend,  too,  Mr.  Breen.  Chips  liked  it, 
and  I'm  sure  he  squared  me  with  the  second  mate." 

"  Please  drop  the  '  mister  '  and  the  *  sir.'  Try  to 
remember.  I'm  a  wood-sawyer,  as  Chips  called  me, 
and  assistant  to  a  darkey  cook.  What  do  you  think 
of  my  day's  work?"  Mr.  Breen  looked  proudly — 
as  proudly  as  an  utterly  exhausted  man  may — at  his 
handiwork,  and  lay  down  upon  it.  "  To-morrow  I 
must  split  it,"  he  continued.  "  Abraham  Lincoln 
was  a  rail-splitter  in  his  time.  Wonder  if  he  ever 
got  so  tired  as  I  am?  " 

"  But  why  is  it  necessary  ?  "  asked  Dick.  "  You 
are  certainly  the  best  man  aboard — able  to  command 
the  ship,  but  not  used  to  manual  labor.  Can't  we 
drill  it  into  the  skipper's  head?  " 

"  Go  aft  and  try  if  you  like ;  only,  don't  say  I 
sent  you.  If  I  could  get  into  that  cabin  and  find 
a  loaded  revolver  I  think  I  could  convince  him,  but 
I  see  no  other  way.  When  I'm  able  to  move  without 
pain  I  shall  try  it.  The  skipper  stands  watch  now, 
and  the  first  mate's  confined  to  his  room;  so,  with 
the  steward  asleep,  the  second  mate  asleep,  and  the 
skipper  on  deck,  there  might  be  a  chance  to  sneak  in 
through  the  forward  companion  and  get  his  pistols." 

"  Suppose  I  try  it  to-night?  " 

"  Not  to-night.  It  will  need  two  of  us,  and  to 
night  I  could  not  find  energy  to  pull  a  trigger. 
Then,  too,  you  must  not  take  the  initiative.  You 
are  a  sailor,  and  most  maritime  law  is  devised  for 
your  punishment.  I  am  an  officer,  and  to  a  large 
extent  exempt.  I  have  the  government  behind  me." 

"  What  kind  of  a  crowd  have  you  in  your  watch," 
asked  Dick,  after  a  moment's  thought. 


130  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

"  No  two  alike — all  different :  Dutch,  Swede, 
Dago,  Finn,  and  several  unclassified.  I'm  the  only 
American." 

"  My  side  is  the  same,  excepting  Sawyer.  He's 
a  Jerseyman." 

"  You're  not  thinking  of  organizing  a  mutiny,  are 
you?  That  won't  do.  Think  of  the  sensation  and 
the  newspaper  accounts.  Nineteen  murderous  scoun 
drels  hanged  for  mutiny.  Let  me  do  it  alone.  It'll 
be  merely  a  naval  officer  taking  charge  of  a  ship 
and  sailing  her  to  port.  But  who  is  Sawyer?  The 
man  who  was  called  up  on  the  poop  this  morning?  " 

"  Yes.  He's  a  good  fellow  and  believes  as  you 
do.  Says  it'll  make  things  worse  to  kick." 

"  He's  a  man  I'd  like  to  know.  You're  too  suc 
cessful  with  your  fists,  Billson,  properly  to  appreciate 
finesse,  or  to  conduct  a  successful  mutim7.  Go  get 
Sawyer  and  introduce  me.  I'm  too  tired  to  seek 
him." 

Dick  went  among  the  men  and  returned  with 
Sawyer. 

"  Excuse  my  not  rising,"  said  the  unsubdued 
Breen.  "  I'm  a  little  out  of  form,  and  the  saw  wants 
sharpening." 

"  An'  it's  a  d —  shame,  sir,"  answered  Sawyer, 
sitting  down  on  the  hatch  and  speaking  softly.  "  If 
ye  could  only  make  the  skipper  believe  ye,  it'd  be 
all  right.  He  wouldn't  dare  haze  ye — oh,  I  know 
an  officer,  sir  [Breen  had  started  up]  ;  I  put  in  three 
years  in  the  service;  I  could  tell  by  yer  walk,  and 
yer  voice,  and  the  way  ye  carried  yerself,  an'  when 
the  skipper  twitted  ye  about  makin'  a  bluff,  I  knew 
for  sure." 

"  Well,"  said  Breen,  coldly,  "  I  hope  you  have 
kept  your  knowledge  to  yourself." 


BARBARISM  131 

"  No  fear,  sir ;  I've  kept  still,  an'  mean  to ;  and 
if  I  can  be  of  any  service  to  ye  aboard  this  hell- 
driver  ye  can  call  on  me." 

"  Surely,"  interrupted  Dick,  "  the  three  of  us 
could  take  charge — " 

"  No,  no,"  said  the  ensign,  impatiently.  "  Saw 
yer,  how  about  this  grub?  Shall  we  get  such  stuff 
right  along?  " 

"  Until  we  find  out  and  give  up  the  man  that 
crippled  the  mate.  We're  on  government  whack.*3 

"  The  old  navy  war  ration,  I  suppose ;  but  I've 
passed  upon  and  condemned  naval  stores  much  better 
than  these." 

"  True  enough,  sir.  But  a  good  many  shipowners 
an'  skippers  buy  up  condemned  navy  stores.  They're 
always  used  up,  somewhere." 

"  And  I  suppose  we  must  find  out  the  man  who 
assaulted  the  first  mate  before  we  have  a  change," 
said  Breen,  musingly.  "  What  will  the  skipper  do 
to  him?" 

"  Oh,  he'll  be  ironed,  of  course,  an'  perhaps 
thumped  a  little;  but  he's  sure  to  be  triced  up  by 
the  wrists  for  eight  or  ten  hours  until  he  confesses, 
or  begs  off,  or  weakens  somehow." 

"  Sawyer,"  and  Breen's  voice  hardened,  "  do  you 
know  anything  about  the  geography  of  the  cabin — 
how  the  rooms  are  laid  out  ?  " 

"  Why,  yes ;  they're  all  about  alike  in  these  ships. 
The  two  mates'  rooms  are  each  side  the  forrard  pas 
sage  that  the  companion  opens  into.  Next  aft  is 
the  dinin'  room,  with  staterooms  and  storerooms 
along  the  sides,  and  next  is  the  after  cabin  where 
the  old  man  lives.  His  sleepin'  room's  in  one  corner, 
bathroom  in  the  other.  The  after  companion  stairs 
is  between  'em." 


132  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

"Where  does  the  steward  sleep?" 

"  In  one  o'  the  rooms  off  the  dinin'  room." 

"  And  the  carpenter  and  cook  ?  " 

"  Chips  has  a  little  kennel  off  his  shop  between 
the  two  forecastles.  The  cook  has  a  room  off  his 
galley." 

"  Then,  to  get  into  the  after  cabin  at  night  when 
the  captain  has  the  deck,  a  man  will  have  to  enter 
by  the  forward  door,  pass  the  doors  of  two  officers, 
either  of  whom  might  be  awake,  and  pass  the  room 
of  the  steward,  who  also  might  be  wakeful?  " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Sawyer,  drop  the  4  sir '  before  you  form  the 
habit.  I'm  trying  to  break  off  Billson,  here.  Where 
would  the  skipper  be  likely  to  keep  his  pistols  ?  " 

"  In  his  pockets  until  the  crew  get  settled  down ; 
then  in  any  good,  dry  place,  I  s'pose.  It's  a  risky 
thing  you're  thinkin'  of.  He'd  be  apt  to  shoot  you 
if  he  caught  you  in  his  cabin  at  night." 

"  Unless  I  shot  him  first.  It  all  depends  on  those 
pistols.  Well,  we'll  see.  Who  is  this  ?  " 

A  man  had  come  forward  on  the  lee  side,  and, 
approaching  them,  now  peered  into  their  faces.  He 
was  a  small-sized  man  of  quick,  nervous  movements, 
but  evidently  an  American. 

"What's  wrong,  Steward?"  asked  Sawyer. 

"  I  reckon  you're  the  man.  I'm  looking  for 
the  man  that  talked  back  this  morning.  You 
him?" 

"  Reckon  I'm  him." 

"  Captain  Bilker  wants  to  see  you  in  the  cabin." 

"What  for?" 

"  I  don't  know." 

"  All  right."  Sawyer  arose  from  the  hatch.  "  I 
may  come  forrard  feet  first,"  he  said  to  Breen,  "  an5 


BARBARISM  133 

I  may  go  in  irons,  but — take  care  o'  yerselves,  both 
o'  ye." 

He  took  the  lee  side  in  going  aft,  but  the  steward, 
who  had  come  this  way,  and  doubtless  found  it 
draughty,  sought  the  shelter  of  the  weather  rail  in 
returning.  He  blundered  into  a  group  of  Dick's 
watchmates,  pacing  up  and  down  in  the  darkness,  and 
then  became  invisible  to  the  two  on  the  woodpile. 
But  his  presence  in  the  crowd  was  attested  by  his 
choked  appeals  for  help,  by  the  stamping  and  shuf 
fling  of  feet,  the  muttered  oaths  and  imprecations, 
and  the  thuds  and  smacks  of  fists  and  open  hands. 
At  last,  just  as  Dick  and  Breen  understood  and 
resolved  to  interfere,  he  shot  out  of  the  crowd,  fol 
lowed  by  a  whirling  belaying-pin,  dashed  past  them 
across  the  fore  hatch,  and  with  head  lowered  and 
elbows  elevated  sped  aft  on  the  lee  side. 

"  That's  because  he's  a  small-sized  man,"  said 
Dick.  "  They  blame  him  for  the  way  the  cook 
served  the  grub.  I  wonder  if  they  would  tackle  the 
cook,  or  the  skipper." 

"  Hardly,  I  think,"  answered  Breen,  absently. 
He  remained  silent  a  moment,  then  said :  "  He 
didn't  appear  to  be  injured;  but  what  would 
happen  if  they  disabled  him?  Who  would  do  his 
work?" 

"  Cook,  I  suppose." 

"  Don't  think  so — and  his  own,  too ;  if  one  could 
do  both  they  wouldn't  carry  two.  If  the  steward 
was  put  out  of  commission,  Billson,  some  one  would 
take  his  place  in  the  cabin.  I  am  the  likeliest  man." 

*'  Want  me  to  do  it  ?  "  asked  Dick,  surmising  the 
drift  of  Breen's  thoughts. 

"  No,  no — by  all  means — no.  Only  as  a  last  re 
sort.  He  seems  a  harmless  man.  I  was  only  think- 


134  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

ing — and — I  want  only  the  run  of  that  cabin  for 
ten  minutes." 

"How  about  the  cook?  He's  apt  to  make  some 
kind  of  demonstration  soon  on  account  of  the  soup. 
Suppose  I  put  him  out;  it'll  be  a  pleasant  job." 

"  And  then  you'll  go  in  irons.  No,  I  need  you 
intact  and  free.  If  we  could  get  some  one  else  to 
do  it?" 

"Chips?" 

"  I've  no  love  for  him.  He  was  rather  harsh  and 
unkind  to-day.  I  wouldn't  sorrow  much  to  see  him 
ironed  for  killing  the  cook,  or  the  cook  ironed  for 
killing  him.  However,  it  won't  be  necessary.  The 
skipper  must  stand  watch  until  the  mate  recovers, 
and  when  the  pain  is  out  of  my  bones  I  mean  to 
sneak  into  his  cabin.  I'm  in  his  watch,  you  see,  and 
it'll  be  easy  on  a  dark  night,  along  toward  morning, 
when  he  is  busy  on  deck,  and  the  others  are  sound 
asleep." 

Sawyer  came  round  the  corner  of  the  house  and 
joined  them. 

"  Going  aft,  third  mate,"  he  said.  "  The  skipper 
don't  want  to  stand  watch.  But  I  wouldn't  tell  him 
who  the  man  was." 

"  Do  you  know?  "  asked  Breen. 

"  Yes ;  skipper  explained  how  he  broke  the  mate's 
arm.  Mate  turned  out  and  clinched  him  in  the  dark 
ness,  but  the  man  broke  away;  then  the  mate  struck 
out  at  his  face,  and  the  man  ducked  and  caught  his 
wrist  in  both  hands,  then,  quicker'n  lightnin',  he 
turned  and  brought  the  arm,  elbow  down,  over  his 
own  shoulder,  an'  hove  down  on  it.  It's  a  trick  known 
to  trained  fighters,  an'  it's  also  known  in  the  navy. 
The  man  was  no  thief;  he  only  wanted  the  mate's 
pistol,  not  knowin'  that  he  went  to  bed  with  it." 


BARBARISM  135 

CHAPTER  XXX 

OAWYER  turned  and  entered  the  forecastle, 
^3  while  Dick  furtively  glanced  at  the  slim,  grace 
ful  figure  of  his  officer.  As  events  crowded  one  upon 
another,  he  was  being  forced  to  a  revision  of  opinion 
regarding  his  smooth-voiced  and  gentlemanly  su 
perior — this  courageous  and  resourceful  man  of  ac 
tion.  He  was  beginning  to  admire  him,  almost  to 
like  him. 

"  It  was  a  foul  trick,"  said  the  ensign  at  last ; 
"  but  what  could  I  do  ?  He  was  a  large,  heavy  man. 
I  had  suffered  brutal  treatment  on  deck,  and  feared 
for  my  life.  We  were  taught  that  trick  sub  rosa,  at 
Annapolis,  as  a  resource  in  street  riots,  when  firing 
was  forbidden." 

"  You  did  right,"  answered  Dick,  vehemently. 
"  I've  practiced  it,  but  have  never  been  forced  to 
use  it.  I  will,  though,  if  necessary;  and  then,  too, 
if  you'd  got  the  gun,  you'd  have  shot  him  and  the 
other  two,  before  the  thing  was  over.  There's  no 
fair  play  needed  aboard  this  ship.  It  isn't  under 
stood." 

"  I  wonder  what  use  Sawyer  will  make  of  his  knowl 
edge,  now  that  he  is  aft?  " 

As  though  to  answer  this,  Sawyer  came  out, 
dumped  his  clothes-bag  on  the  hatch,  and  joined 
them. 

"  Don't  fear  that  I'll  give  you  away,"  he  said. 
"  I've  sworn  I  don't  know  anythin'  about  it,  an' 
that'll  stand.  An'  I  want  to  say  that  I  think  ye  took 
the  best  plan  in  playin'  flunkey.  If  ye'd  acted  yer 
natural  self,  an'  shown  yer  knowledge  o'  ships  an' 
sailorizin',  ye  might  ha'  convinced  the  skipper — 


136  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

when  it'd  be  too  late ;  for,  havin'  hazed  ye  an'  kicked 
ye  around,  an'  knowin'  that  as  an  officer  o'  the  navy 
ye  could  make  him  sweat  for  it,  he'd  think  the  safest 
plan  for  him'd  be  to  kill  ye  with  work,  somehow,  or 
shoot  ye  as  a  mutineer,  an'  put  ye  in  the  log  under 
the  name  ye've  got  on  the  articles,  or  have  ye 
knocked  overboard  some  dark  night." 

"  That's  the  way  I  reasoned,"  said  Breen. 

"  Yes,  an'  ye  reasoned  right.  It's  well  understood 
that  a  gentleman,  shanghaied  in  a  Yankee  ship,  sel 
dom  finishes  the  passage;  but  as  a  harmless  servant 
man,  ye'd  have  a  chance  out  o'  yer  pure  innocence. 
It's  best  as  it  is.  Now,  ye'll  be  in  my  watch,  an* 
I'll  make  it  easy  for  ye;  but  understand,  after  I've 
gone  aft  wi'  that  bag,  I'm  an  officer,  and  can't  talk 
with  ye,  an'  I've  got  to  forget  all  I've  said  an' 
listened  to,  an'  if  I  caught  ye  in  the  cabin  I'd 
have  to  put  ye  out.  Just  the  same — good  luck 
to  ye." 

He  shouldered  his  bag  and  started  aft,  but  turned 
and  rejoined  them. 

"  And,  of  course,  ye'll  understand,"  he  said  to 
Breen,  "  that  my  believin'  in  yer  bein'  a  navy  officer 
won't  help  ye  any  more  now  than  if  I  stayed  forrard. 
I  might  convince  the  skipper  'fore  long.  So  can  you 
'fore  long;  but  it'll  be  the  worst  thing  that  could 
happen  after  what  has  happened.  Understand. 
You'll  die — somehow;  and  yer  death'll  go  into  the 
skipper's  official  log  as  accidental,  and  one  o'  the 
mates'll  witness  the  entry.  That's  evidence  in  court. 
I  can  swear  only  to  my  belief,  after  yer  dead,  and 
that  won't  help  ye.  But,"  he  added,  significantly, 
"  I'll  have  the  lower  bunk  in  Mr.  Jones's  room." 
Then  he  was  gone. 

"  There  will  be  somebody  each  side  of  that  pas- 


BARBARISM  137 

sage,  continually,"  said  Breen.  "  The  thing  is  boiling 
down." 

From  the  darkness  in  the  weather  alley  came  the 
tall  figure  of  the  carpenter.  He  halted,  listened  a 
moment,  then  spying  Dick  and  Breen  at  the  woodpile, 
came  down  to  them,  uttering  a  warning,  "  Sh-h-h-h." 
Over  the  sound  of  the  wind  and  sea  could  be  heard 
the  scraping  of  a  knife  on  a  steel. 

"  Hear  it,  lad,"  he  said  earnestly  to  Dick.  "  Hear 
the  dark  beast  a-grindin'  his  knife?  Is  it  for  me 
or  you?  Ye  soaked  him  weel  wi'  the  soup,  an'  I'm 
thinkin'  he's  a  mon  to  be  watchful  of.  Losh,  but  it 
fair  maks  me  nairvous — to  hear  that  sound." 

"  It's  for  you,"  said  Breen,  guilefully.  "  It's  for 
you.  He  told  me  he  would  kill  you.  Oh,  he  isn't 
afraid  of  you !  " 

"  Get  ye  oot  o'  this,  ye  time-sairvin'  flunkey,"  said 
Chips,  angrily  raising  his  open  hand;  and  Breeu 
moved  quickly — with  a  billet  of  wood  in  his  grasp. 

"  He  says,"  persisted  Breen,  from  a  safe  distance, 
"  that  he  won't  allow  you  or  any  one  else  to  lay 
hands  on  me  again.  He  says  you're  nothing  but  a 
whitewashed  Irishman — " 

"  Hush,  ye  bag  o'  bad  teedings,"  roared  the  exas 
perated  Chips.  "An  Irishman  am  I?  Me,  a  Mac- 
Pherson  o'  the  hill  clans !  Oot  o'  my  sight,  or  I'll — " 

He  advanced  toward  the  retreating  ensign,  but 
Dick,  grinning  in  the  darkness,  placed  himself  in 
the  way. 

"  Never  mind  that,"  he  said.  "  The  question  is : 
what  about  the  cook?  He's  sharpening  that  knife  for 
one  of  us — perhaps  both.  What  do  you  think  we 
ought  to  do?  " 

"  I  canna  tell,"  was  the  mournful  reply.  "  It's 
a  mortal  sin  to  hurt  a  ship's  cook.  He's  a  sacred 


138  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

pairson.  Did  ye  no  hear  the  second  mate  call  me 
doon  the  day?  But  I  can  try  the  effect  o'  moral 
suasion.  I'll  e'en  put  an  eedge  on  the  broad-axe." 

He  left  them,  and  soon  from  the  carpenter  shop 
came  to  their  ears  the  rhythmical  thumping  of  a 
grindstone  footboard,  and  the  steady  grating  of  cold 
steel  pressed  against  its  wet  surface.  It  drowned 
the  "  wheese,  wheech  "  from  the  galley. 

"  The  man  is  frightened,"  said  Dick,  as  the  ensign 
rejoined  him. 

"  So  much  the  better,"  replied  Breen,  depositing 
his  billet  on  the  pile ;  "  he  is  more  likely  to  act.  Keep 
it  up,  and  I'll  stir  up  the  darkey.  There  goes  eight 
bells — four  hours  more  for  me." 


CHAPTER  XXXI 

WHEN  the  port  watch  turned  out  at  midnight 
they  found  but  a  gentle  whisper  telling  of 
the  gale  of  the  preceding  night,  and  a  cold,  full  moon 
overhanging  the  southern  horizon.  By  a  prear 
ranged  schedule  among  the  men,  it  was  Dick's  trick 
at  the  wheel  from  twelve  until  two;  and,  when  the 
other  watch  had  been  dismissed,  he  went  aft  with  a 
few  misgivings,  but  thankful  that  wind  and  sea  were 
easy.  He  had  learned  as  much  about  steering  as  a 
man-of-war's-man  may — which,  beyond  the  tech 
nique,  is  very  little — but  had  not  acquired  the  nice 
"  sense  of  pressure "  which  enables  a  trained  mer 
chant  sailor  to  steer  almost  by  feeling  alone.  After 
repeating  the  course  given  by  his  predecessor,  and 
grinding  the  wheel  over  and  back  a  few  times  with 
unnecessary  vigor,  he  gradually  brought  the  ship 
under  command ;  and,  as  his  nerves  were  now  in  good 


BARBARISM  139 

order,  and  his  judgment  of  the  best,  he  steered  a 
course  which  called  forth  no  objurgations  from  Mr. 
Jones,  though  he  frequently  peered  into  the  binnacle, 
and  as  often  turned  to  look  Dick  squarely  in  the 
face.  Then  he  would  resume  his  pacing  back  and 
forth  on  the  quarter-deck  forward  of  the  after  house. 
Twice  before  two  bells  had  struck  he  stepped  into  the 
companion  out  of  sight,  and  when  next  he  appeared 
at  the  binnacle  Dick  smelled  liquor  on  his  breath. 
This  time  he  spoke,  thickly  but  good-humoredly. 

"  What's  up  'tween  you  and  the  cook?  "  he  asked. 

"  Nothing,  sir ;  I  lost  my  head  and  doused  him 
before  I  thought." 

"What'dhe  do?" 

"  Only  made  faces,  sir ;  but  he  looked  like  mur 
der,  and  I  let  go." 

"  Ye  doused  him  well — 'cordin'  to  what  Chips 
says,"  chuckled  Pig.  "  But  look  out  for  him ;  he's 
a  bad  proposition ;  knifed  two  last  voyage." 

"  Then  you've  been  shipmates  before,  sir  ?  "  said 
Dick,  hardly  knowing  what  attitude  to  assume. 

"  For  three  years — in  fact,  all  my  goin'  to  sea. 
I  ain't  been  long  at  it,"  said  Pig,  proudly.  "  I  licked 
a  grown  man  first  voyage,  and  I  took  the  fight  out 
o'  that  nigger  second  voyage,  an'  he's  afraid  to  look 
sideways  at  me  now;  and  I  licked  the  second  mate 
last  passage  home.  That's  how  I  step  into  his  place. 
That's  what  a  skipper  wants  in  an  officer.  Learn 
all  ye  like  to — be  the  best  seaman  on  earth,  and  'less 
ye  can  thump  men,  and  win  out  every  time,  yer  no 
good  aft." 

"  So  I  should  think,  sir,"  answered  Dick,  humbly ; 
"  but  I  don't  think  I'd  do.  I  can  work,  but  I  can't 
fight.  Never  could,  sir." 

"  Well,  ye  want  to  brace  up  and  learn  to  box, 


140  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

and — another  thing,  stick  to  yer  skipper,  and  get 
navigation.  I'm  halfway  into  it  now.  No  good 
pullin'  ropes  all  yer  life.  What  part  o'  the  States 
ye  come  from  ?  " 

"  New  York  state,  sir — Port  Jervis,"  said  Dick, 
remembering  his  geography. 

"  I'm  a  York  state  boy  myself,"  said  Pig. 
*'  From  Allville.  Say,  you  do  look  mighty  like  a 
jigger  I  went  to  school  with — Redhead  Halpin;  but 
your  hair  ain't  red.  He  shipped  in  the  navy  and 
never  was  heard  from  up  to  when  I  lit  out." 

"  Think  he's  dead,  sir?  "  Dick  was  humanly  anx 
ious  to  hear  of  himself. 

"  Hope  so.  He  was  a  mean  sucker  for  the  size 
of  him.  Give  away  a  whole  raft  o'  fellers  and  got 
*em  into  trouble  with  the  police.  I  wasn't  in  it,  but 
I  was  one  o'  the  gang  that  done  him  up  for  it.  Then 
lie  got  fired  out  o5  school  for  stealin',  and  skipped 
the  town." 

"  Oh,  a  thief,  sir,  too,"  said  Dick. 

"  Well,  no,  to  give  the  devil  his  due,  he  wasn't 
— at  least,  he  didn't  take  the  boodle  in  this  case, 
but  it  looked  that  way.  It  came  out  months  after 
he  skipped,  little  by  little;  he  was  tryin'  to  shield 
the  real  thief,  who  was  a  pet  brother  o'  the  gal  he 
"was  stuck  on — see?  And  he  got  into  his  boots  in  the 
mix.  The  gal  got  dead  on  to  it  somehow — nobody 
ever  knew  what  happened — and  made  her  brother 
own  up.  Then  his  dad  took  'em  both  out  o' 
school — " 

"  Did  Mabel  do  that?  "  burst  in  Dick. 

"  Hey !  Say  *  sir  '  when  ye  talk  to  me.  Mabel, 
is  it?  Who  said  anythin'  'bout  Mabel?  Hey? 
That's  the  gal's  name  right  enough,  but  I'd  never  ha* 
'membered  it,  without  hearin'  it.  Mabel,  hey?  I'm 


BARBARISM  141 

dead  on  to  you,  Dick  Halpin,  and  I'll  make  you 
<rawl  'fore  I'm  done  wi'  ye.  What  game  ye  up  to, 
anyhow  ?  Hey  ?  " 

"  No  game,  sir,"  answered  the  flustered  Dick. 
"  I'm  only  listening  to  what  you  say  about  other 
people.  I  don't  know  them.  How  could  I?  " 

"  How  could  ye?  D'ye  mean  to  say  yer  not  Rei 
Halpin?  How'd  ye  know  that  gal's  name?  " 

"  You  spoke  the  name,  sir,"  said  Dick,  gathering 
his  wits,  "  and,  not  knowing  her  other  name,  or  any 
thing  about  her,  I  repeated  it.  I  was  interested. 
Most  girls  wouldn't  have  done  that." 

"  I  b'lieve  yer  lyin'.  How  could  I  speak  her  name 
when  I'd  forgotten  it?  Hey?" 

"  You  must  have  remembered  subconsciously,  sir. 
I've  read  about  such  things.  Sometimes  we  can't  re 
member  things  when  we  try,  but  they  come  to  us, 
and  then  we  forget  again.  You've  noticed  that,  sir. 
I'm  not  your  man,  Mr.  Jones.  My  name  is  Billson, 
and  I  never  heard  of  these  people  before." 

"  Well,  it's  mighty  queer,  that's  what  I  say ;  and 
if  I  find  out  yer  lyin'  to  me,  I'll  make  it  so  hot  for 
ye  that  ye'll  be  glad  to  git  overboard  to  cool  off." 

He  moved  down  toward  the  lee-rail  and  met  the 
captain  stepping  out  of  the  after  companion. 

"  Now,  look  here,  Mr.  Jones,"  said  the  latter, 
sternly,  "  I  want  you  to  understand  one  thing  'fore 
you're  a  minute  older.  I've  listened  to  this  pow-wow, 
and  let  it  go  on,  wonderin'  when  you'd  stop.  If  you 
don't  know  any  more  than  to  talk  to  the  man  at  the 
wheel,  you'd  better  go  'fore  the  mast  again  till  you 
do  know  somethin'.  You  hear  me?  Don't  let  me 
speak  to  you  again  on  this  subject." 

"  All  right,  sir,"  answered  the  officer,  sulkily,  and 
the  captain  stepped  up  to  windward  and  looked  aloft. 


MASTERS  OF  MEN 

Then  he  looked  at  the  compass.  Dick  had  the  ship 
straight  on  her  course,  though  if  the  captain  had 
looked  five  seconds  earlier  or  five  seconds  later,  he 
would  have  seen  her  off  a  full  point.  Tranquillity  of 
mind  is  of  first  importance  in  good  helmsmanship. 

"  I  think,  Mr.  Jones,"  said  the  captain,  dryly,  as 
he  passed  Pig  on  his  way  to  the  companion,  "  that 
your  yards  will  stand  a  little  attention."  Then  he 
stepped  down,  and  Pig  faced  Dick. 

"  I  get  this  on  your  account,  d —  ye,"  he  growled. 
«  All  right.  Watch  out." 

Then  he  went  forward,  bawling  "  weather  main 
brace,"  and  Dick  tried  to  adjust  himself  to  the  new 
conditions ;  but  during  the  rest  of  his  trick  and  the 
remaining  two  hours  of  the  watch,  which  he  spent  in 
solitude  under  the  topgallant  forecastle,  he  had  not 
succeeded. 

CHAPTER  XXXII 

AT  eight  bells  Dick  mustered  aft  to  be  counted 
with  the  rest — as  is  customary  at  the  change 
of  night-watches — and  when  his  watchmates  had 
turned  in,  he  again  sought  his  hiding-place;  for  he 
could  not  sleep  even  though  the  others  had  ceased  to 
discuss  a  project  propounded  among  them  while  he 
was  at  the  wheel.  He  had  felt  no  interest  when  in 
formed  of  it,  for  he  could  think  of  nothing  but  his 
changed  position. 

Pig's  statement  gave  a  new  coloring  to  each  action 
of  Mabel  Arthur  and  to  each  of  his  own.  She  knew, 
and  had  known  from  nearly  the  beginning,  that  he 
was  innocent.  Her  attitude  had  held  nothing  of  pity 
or  contempt,  and  her  strange  friendliness  and  interest 
in  him,  which  he  had  believed  arose  from  these  two 


BARBARISM  143 

emotions,  would  now  admit  of  a  worthier  animus. 
Dimly  to  his  mind  came  the  ensign's  mention  on 
board  the  Vermont  of  her  intercession  in  his  behalf, 
of  all  she  had  done  for  him,  and  he  started  out  on 
deck,  to  call  him  from  the  group  at  the  port  fore 
castle  door,  and  ask  a  repetition  and  verification ;  but 
there  came  to  him  the  memory  of  Bessie's  letter  and 
the  mention  of  a  diamond  ring.  He  must  not  cross- 
question  a  man  about  his  fiancee ;  so  he  decided  to  say 
and  do  nothing  at  all.  Breen  may  have  heard  of 
his  early  disgrace;  but  it  was  certainly  of  small  im 
portance  to  him,  and  an  explanation  might  involve 
branding  the  ensign's  future  brother-in-law  as  a  thief. 
He  realized  that  this  point  of  view  was  at  variance 
with  his  usual  habit  of  mind,  and  felt  the  better  for 
it.  He  was  uplifted,  and  his  love  for  Mabel,  and  his 
reserve  store  of  self-respect,  held  down  through  the 
years  by  the  belief  in  his  bad  reputation,  now  arose 
and  dominated  his  hatred  of  her  brother  and  his  jeal 
ousy  of  Breen. 

"  Perhaps,"  he  mused,  "  this  is  the  way  a  fellow 
must  feel  about  such  things  to  be  a  gentleman — 
worthy  of  her,  for  instance.  Perhaps  if  I  practiced 
feeling  this  way,  I  might  stop  seeing  red  when  things 
go  wrong." 

In  the  latter  speculation  he  was  confirmed  by 
Breen,  whom  he  sought  to  tell  about  Pig's  increased 
suspicion  and  promise  of  a  hot  atmosphere.  Breen, 
sleepy,  cross,  and  sore  in  his  joints,  unsympathetic- 
ally  ordered  him  to  play  his  part — to  submit  meekly 
to  abuse,  oral  and  physical,  in  order  that  he  could 
be  at  hand  when  wanted,  instead  of  down  below  in 
irons. 

"  It'll  do  you  good,"  he  concluded,  "  to  be  thumped 
around  a  little  when  you  can't  thump  back.  It'll 


144  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

develop  your  self-control — and,  by  the  way,  I  sup 
pose  you  know  that  both  watches  are  going  aft  at 
breakfast  time  to  protest  against  the  menu.  Keep 
in  the  background,  and  let  the  others  talk.  They're 
all  brave  enough  for  talking." 

Dick  turned  in,  and,  being  young,  lost  only  an 
hour  in  getting  to  sleep.  He  awakened  at  seven 
bells  with  the  rest,  and,  as  agreed  upon  among  them, 
ate  no  breakfast,  the  object  being  to  preserve  it 
intact  for  the  official  exhibition  at  eight  bells,  when 
the  other  watch  could  join  them.  There  was  much 
talking  about  past  experiences  of  the  kind  in  which 
victory  had  come  to  the  narrators ;  but  when  eight 
bells  had  struck,  they  emptied  their  pipes  and  arose 
to  their  feet  with  more  or  less  of  anxiety  showing 
in  each  face.  Smith,  true  to  his  word,  bore  the  pan 
of  "  cracker  hash  "  with  a  clean  spoon  resting  on 
top,  and  Wagner  carried  the  coffee-pot  and  a  tin 
pannikin.  They  trooped  out,  waited  at  the  main 
hatch  until  the  other  watch  had  obtained  their  break 
fast  from  the  starboard  galley  door,  then  marched 
aft  in  a  body,  and  Smith,  the  spokesman,  told  Saw 
yer  at  the  break  of  the  poop  that  they  would  like 
to  see  the  captain.  Sawyer  nodded  warningly,  and 
entered  the  forward  companion.  When  he  came  out 
he  carried  a  double-barreled  shotgun,  and  following 
him  were  Captain  Bilker  and  Mr.  Jones,  each  with 
the  same  burden,  and  a  tall,  mild-eyed,  handsome 
man  with  side-whiskers,  who  carried  his  right  arm 
in  a  sling,  and  whom  Dick  had  no  trouble  in  identify 
ing  as  Mr.  Thorpe,  the  first  mate.  This  man  held 
a  marlinespike  in  his  left  hand.  As  they  ranged  up 
at  the  monkey-rail  and  looked  down  on  the  men,  the 
carpenter  stole  past  them  and  mounted  the  poop 
steps  with  his  broad-axe  on  his  shoulder,  the  cook 


BARBARISM 

followed  with  his  carving-knife,  taking  a  position  at 
the  opposite  end  of  the  line  from  the  carpenter,  and 
the  steward  emerged  from  the  after  companion  with 
a  repeating  rifle.  Precautionary  discipline  was  per 
fect.  At  the  first  sign  of  protest  seven  armed  men 
were  prepared  to  listen,  and  the  cook  and  carpenter 
glared  down  on  the  sea  slaves  with  no  irrelevant  side 
glances  at  each  other. 

"  Well,  men,"  said  Captain  Bilker,  as  with  easy 
carelessness  he  rested  his  gun  on  the  monkey-rail 
with  its  two  muzzles  looking  down  on  them,  "  what 
d'ye  want  ?  " 

"  Just  this,  sir,"  said  Smith,  stepping  out  of  the 
group  with  his  pan  of  hash.  "  We  hain't  lookin'  for 
trouble,  an'  we  don't  want  to  say  nothin'  that'll  bring; 
hon  hany  shootin',  sir;  but  we  just  want  to  hask  you,, 
sir,  if  this  is  the  right  kind  o'  chuck  to  feed  men  on, 
sir.  We  hain't  got  nothin'  to  say  'bout  hit's  bein* 
government  whack,  'cause  that's  hall  we  sign  for; 
but  we  don't  sign  for  maggots,  sir — they're  not  in 
the  scale  o'  provisions,  sir." 

"  No,"  remarked  the  captain,  dryly,  "  they're  not ; 
you're  getting  them  extra — good  fresh  meat  over 
and  above  yer  'lowance.  Mr.  Thorpe,"  he  said,  turn 
ing  to  the  first  mate,  "  there's  the  crew ;  d'ye  recog 
nize  yer  man?  " 

"  I  do,"  answered  the  officer,  a  peculiar  shine,  or 
sparkle,  in  his  blue  eyes ;  "  that  outlaw  sneakin'  be 
hind  the  others  back  there."  He  raised  the  marline- 
spike  unsteadily  in  his  left  hand,  and  the  men  below 
separated  and  fell  back.  Then  the  marlinespike 
whirled  among  them,  and  Dick  Halpin  fell  to  the  deck. 

"  By  heaven,  sir,"  roared  Sawyer,  "  if  this  ain't 
pure  murder  I  never  heard  of  it.  That  man  wasn't 
turned  to  till  four  o'clock  that  morning.  He  was 


146  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

doped,  an'  in  his  bunk,  till  Mr.   Jones  pulled  him 
out." 

"  Shut  up,"  thundered  the  captain.  "  Hush,  or 
I'll  put  ye  'fore  the  mast  again.  Sure  o'  yer  man, 
Mr.  Thorpe?" 

"  Sure  of  him,  sir?  "  said  the  mate,  with  a  smile; 
**  of  course  I  am.  Look  at  the  size  of  him.  Is  there 
any  one  else  in  that  pack  able  to  break  my  arm? 
And  I  know  his  face  and  shape.  I  could  see  him  well 
enough." 

"  You're  wrong,"  vociferated  Sawyer,  angrily ; 
"  you're  dead  wrong,  Mr.  Thorpe.  That  man  was 
stupid  in  his  bunk  all  through  that  watch.  Mr. 
Jones'll  bear  me  out.  He  turned  him  to  at  eight 
bells,  too  dopy  to  know  his  name.  Hold  on,  sir, 
don't  point  that  thing  my  way !  "  Mr.  Thorpe  had 
drawn  and  was  nervously  raising  a  pistol  as  he 
looked  at  Sawyer,  but  the  enraged  third  mate  leveled 
the  shotgun,  and  the  pistol  came  down.  Still  holding 
the  gun  horizontal,  Sawyer  backed  toward  the  rail 
and  spoke  to  the  second  mate,  while  down  on  deck 
Breen  helped  Dick  to  his  feet. 

"  Isn't  that  so,  Mr.  Jones?  " 

It  may  have  been  the  menace  of  the  shotgun,  or 
it  may  have  been  Pig's  surprise  and  shock  at  the 
sudden  felling  of  a  man  before  his  eyes ;  for  he  was 
young  yet.  He  answered  truthfully. 

"  Yes,  he  couldn't  be  waked  up  till  eight  bells.  I 
tried  twice,  and  I  know  that.  It  was  some  one  else, 
Mr.  Thorpe." 

"  Enough  o'  this,"  said  the  captain,  impatiently. 
"  Take  that  man  forrard.  Mr.  Sawyer,  lower  that 
gun,  and  remember  where  you  are.  I  make  all  'low- 
ances  for  mistakes  o'  judgment,  but — put  that  gun 
down.  Yer  on  my  poop  deck." 


BARBARISM  147 

"  All  right,  sir,  but  I  couldn't  keep  quiet  under 
this." 

"  Now,  men,"  said  the  captain  to  those  below  him, 
"  take  that  fellar  forrard,  and  take  yer  grub  with 
you.  I  don't  want  to  see  it  or  smell  it.  Ye'll  get 
no  different  till  ye  give  up  the  man  that  crippled  my 
first  mate." 

"  'Ow  can  we  do  that,  sir?  "  replied  Smith.  "  He 
won't  give  'isself  hup,  knowin'  he's  likely  to  be  killed. 
An'  there's  no  hother  way  to  find  hout.  Hand  we 
can't  eat  this  stuff,  sir." 

"  That'll  do !    Go  forrard." 

"  Hall  right,  sir,  we'll  go ;  but  can  we  hask  you, 
sir,  hif  you'll  make  the  cook  shake  out  the  maggots 
'fore  he  cooks  up  the  'ash?  " 

It  was  a  reasonable  and  a  respectful  request,  and 
possibly  Captain  Bilker  was  impressed  by  it.  He 
hesitated  a  moment,  then  turned  to  the  steward. 

"  From  this  on,"  he  said,  "  serve  the  men  from  the 
new  stores ;  serve  'em  the  allowance,  and  not  an 
ounce  more.  Now,  men,"  he  added,  facing  them 
again,  "  I'm  givin'  you  new  grub  for  a  while — one 
month,  we'll  say;  and  if  you  don't  produce  that  mur- 
derin'  thief  by  then,  back  you  go  to  what  ye've  been 
gettin' ;  but  if  you  do,  it's  full  and  plenty." 

"  Thank  ye,  sir;  we'll  do  what  we  can." 

They  went  forward,  assisting  Dick.  He  was  weak 
in  the  legs,  somewhat  dazed  from  shock  and  head 
ache,  and  his  face  was  streaked  with  blood  from  a 
furrow  in  his  scalp  where  the  point  of  the  spike  had 
plowed. 


148  MASTERS  OF  MEN 


CHAPTER  XXXIII 

I  a  slave,  or  a  convict?  "  he  asked  weakly, 
as  he  sat  on  a  chest  a  little  later.  Breen  was 
bandaging  the  wound  made  by  the  marlinespike,  and 
they  were  alone  in  the  port  forecastle,  Dick's  watch 
being  at  work  on  deck,  Breen's  in  the  other  forecastle, 
trying  to  eat  the  breakfast.  "  Isn't  there  any  law 
for  these  things?  " 

"  Plenty  of  law,  but  little  justice,"  answered  Breen, 
with  a  hard  look  on  his  face.  "  Thank  your  good 
luck  that  you  didn't  get  it  between  the  eyes.  You 
know  something  now  about  the  kind  of  men  they  are, 
don't  you?  The  mate  thought  nothing  of  flooring 
you  on  mere  suspicion,  and  if  he  had  killed  you, 
would  have  thought  as  little.  Same  with  the  skipper. 
Very  well.  When  we  get  our  chance  we'll  shoot  to 
kill;  it's  the  only  way.  Hush — here's  somebody." 

The  burly  form  of  the  second  mate  darkened  the 
door,  and  his  unpleasant  voice  said : — 

"  Come  now,  come  now,  goin'  to  soger  all  the 
watch?  Come  out  o'  that,  and  turn  to." 

"  Just  a  minute,  sir,"  answered  Breen,  with  as 
sumed  cheerfulness.  "  I'll  have  him  ready  when  I've 
knotted  these  ends.  He's  lost  blood,  and  he's  weak, 
sir." 

"  What  guff  ha'  you  got  about  it  ?  "  Mr.  Jones 
stepped  in,  and  advanced  upon  them.  "  Don't  gi' 
me  any  o'  yer  slack."  He  struck  open-handed  at 
the  ensign's  face  with  force  enough  to  stretch  him 
out  on  the  floor ;  then  he  collared  Dick,  and  held  him 
while  Breen  scrambled  to  his  feet.  The  play  of  emo 
tion  on  Breen's  disfigured  face  was  unpleasant  to 
see,  and  he  looked  wildly  about  him.  Perhaps  it  was 


BARBARISM  149 

well  for  all  three  that  there  was  not  a  knife,  club,  or 
implement  in  the  forecastle.  He  looked  Mr.  Jones 
squarely  in  the  eyes  for  a  moment,  then  looked  down, 
and  said  quietly,  but  with  the  same  tremble  of  rage 
in  his  voice  that  had  marked  his  protest  to  the  car 
penter  : — 

"  I  was  only  stopping  the  blood,  sir,  so  that  he 
wouldn't  get  weaker." 

"  Dry  up,  ye  farmer !  " 

He  marched  Dick  at  arm's  length  to  the  door,  and 
actually  kicked  him  through  it.  Dick  fell  in  a  heap 
without,  and  as  he  painfully  sat  up,  then  stood  up, 
he  saw,  faint  and  bloodless  as  he  was,  the  old  reddish 
tinge  creep  over  the  sky,  the  deck,  and  the  white 
paint  work  about  him — not  so  brilliant  as  of  old, 
but  strong  enough  to  remind  him  of  his  curse  of 
temper;  then  he  thought  of  Breen's  mastery  of  him 
self  a  moment  before,  and  by  a  supreme  effort  of  will 
brought  himself  back  to  sanity.  The  paint  became 
white,  the  sky  gray,  and  the  deck  the  dingy  hue  it 
had  worn.  But  the  effort  of  will,  in  his  weakened 
condition,  cost  him  his  senses,  and  he  fell  in  a 
faint. 

When  he  recovered  consciousness,  he  was  in  the 
same  spot  on  the  deck,  and  above  him  stood  Mr. 
Jones  with  an  empty  bucket,  while  Smith  was  perched 
on  the  rail,  with  a  draw-bucket. 

"  That'll  do  the  water,"  said  the  officer,  and  Smith 
came  down.  "  Now,  then,"  he  roared  at  Dick,  "  goin* 
to  get  up  and  turn  to,  or  d'ye  want  to  be  tucked  in 
yer  cradle  and  rocked  to  sleep  ?  " 

Dick  staggered  to  his  feet  and  managed  to  remain 
erect ;  but  he  could  riot  speak,  and  things  looked  hazy 
and  indistinct  to  him,  the  second  mate's  huge  figure 
being  nothing  but  an  opaque  blur.  Then  a  second 


150  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

blur  moved  into  his  imperfect  circle  of  vision,  and  he 
heard  the  captain's  voice. 

"You  blunderin'  fool,"  it  said.  "You  all-fired 
senseless  idiot,  are  you  tryin'  to  kill  this  man,  jess 
'cause  ye  know  how?  Don't  ye  know  when  a  man's 
had  enough,  or  will  ye  ever  know  any  thin'.  I've 
watched  ye  for  the  last  ten  minutes,  bully raggin'  a 
man  already  under  control,  with  the  rest  o'  yer  watch 
sogerin'  around  doin'  nothin'  and  everythin'  shakin* 
aloft.  'Tend  to  yer  knittin'  now,  or  I'll  have  no  more 
o>  ye." 

Mr.  Jones  took  a  hurried  look  around  and  aloft, 
and  left  them  to  brace  the  yards  for  a  shift  of  wind. 
Captain  Bilker  regarded  Dick,  who,  dripping  wet 
and  shivering,  with  face  pale  as  death,  and  his 
bandage  resting  on  one  shoulder,  was  holding  to  the 
pin-rail  for  support. 

"  What's  yer  name?  "  he  asked. 

"  R-R-R-ichard  Halpin — R-Richard  Billson,  sirf 
— Richard  H.  Billson,  sir." 

"  Well,  Richard  H.  Billson,  are  you  the  man  that 
crippled  my  mate  ?  " 

"  N-no,  sir,"  stuttered  Dick.  "  I  never  saw  him 
before  this  morning.  I  was  in  my  bunk  when  that 
happened,  sir." 

"  How  bad  are  ye  hurt  ?  " 

"  Scalp  wound,  Capt'n ;  but  I'm  weak — I  can 
hardly  stand  up." 

"  Go  to  yer  bunk.  Peel  off  them  wet  clothes,  and 
I'll  send  the  steward  forrard  wi'  some  medicine  to 
keep  down  the  fever.  Take  it,  and  don't  turn  to  till 
ye  feel  like  it.  Yer  no  lazy  man's  clerk,  I  can  see, 
and  I  don't  want  any  sick  men  'board  my  ship." 

"  Thank  you,  sir." 

Breen,  who  had  remained  awake,  assisted  him  into 


BARBARISM  151 

his  bunk,  and  the  steward  came  forward  with  hot 
water,  bandages,  and  medicine,  and  ministered  unto 
him,  with  the  result  that  he  slept  through  three 
watches,  awaking  at  supper  time,  still  weak  and 
nerveless,  but  clear-headed  and  with  appetite  to  enjoy 
his  supper.  It  was  cold  boiled  beef  and  hard  bread ; 
but  not  being  more  than  a  year  old,  it  was  palatable. 

He  found  Breen  sitting  on  the  fore  hatch  staring 
into  the  blackness  under  the  topgallant  forecastle. 
He  inquired  of  Dick's  health,  then  pointed  under  the 
forecastle. 

"  See  it?  "  he  said.  "  Split  it  all  this  afternoon, 
and  piled  it — all  by  myself,  too.  I'm  proud  of  it — 
I  really  am.  I  like  to  look  at  it.  It  fascinates  me. 
And  the  cook  gave  me  a  piece  of  pie.  Here's  your 
half."  He  handed  Dick  a  small  wedge  wrapped  in 
paper. 

"  No,  no,"  protested  Dick,  with  a  laugh.  "  It's 
good,  of  course,  but  I'm  filled  up,  and  anyhow,  I'm 
more  accustomed  to  junk  and  hardtack  than  you." 

"  Take  it,"  commanded  Breen,  sternly.  "  Do  you 
think  I've  resisted  the  temptation  to  bolt  the  whole 
piece  for  a  whole  hour,  to  weaken  now?  Eat  it. 
Consider  it  an  order." 

Dick  ate  the  pie. 

"  I  thought  for  a  moment,  this  morning,"  con 
tinued  Breen,  "  that  I  couldn't  hold  my  luff — when 
that  brute  hit  me.  But  I  did;  we've  got  to  submit  and 
be  ready  to  act  together." 

"  How  did  it  affect  you?  "  asked  Dick.  "  Do  you 
ever  see  red  when  you're  angry?  " 

"No,  do  you?" 

"  Very  often.  I  did  this  morning,  when  he  booted 
me  out ;  but  I  was  too  far  gone  to  do  anything.  I 
generally  go  crazy." 


152  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

"  Bad.  That's  when  men  do  murder.  A  weakness 
of  the  vascular  system — I  heard  a  lecture  about  it 
once — certain  nerve  centers  fail  to  act,  and  there's 
a  rush  of  blood.  But  it's  all  under  control  of  the 
will.  Just  hold  your  temper." 

"  I  did  try  this  morning,  and  it  didn't  last  but 
a  second  or  so.  But  I  dropped." 

"  Keep  on  trying.  You've  got  to,  anyway ;  and 
it'll  do  you  good.  You're  too  good  a  man  to  hang." 

"  What  do  you  think  of  the  skipper's  action  in 
sending  me  below?  He  can't  be  a  whole  brute." 

"  No  man  is  a  whole  villain  or  a  whole  brute. 
We're  mixtures.  It  was  good  business  to  give  you 
a  chance;  but  he'll  kick  you,  himself,  if  he  thinks  it 
necessary,  just  as  often  as  would  your  friend  Pig. 
He  kicked  me  right  off  the  poop;  but  perhaps  he 
wouldn't  waste  any  kicks  that  were  needed  else 
where." 

"  And  what  do  you  think  of  the  cook.  Is  he  sorry 
for  you  ?  " 

"  Not  a  bit — he's  a  corruptionist.  He's  as  nervous 
as  Chips — and  ten  times  more  of  a  cutthroat  and 
coward.  That  pie  was  a  bribe.  I'm  to  watch  the 
carpenter  and  post  the  cook  about  his  intentions. 
Begun  already.  Told  him  Chips  was  sharpening  his 
broad-axe  and  means  to  split  his  head  open." 

"  He  can't  have  any  love  for  me.  I'm  surprised 
that  he  hasn't  made  some  kind  of  a  break  my  way. 
What  do  you  want  me  to  do  if  he  comes  for  me  with 
that  knife?  " 

"  Run.  Your  legs  are  long.  But  I  think  he  won't 
bother  you.  He's  a  spiteful  devil,  with  murder  all 
through  him ;  yet  he's  a  rank  coward,  and  when  I 
told  him  you'd  killed  a  colored  man  in  Charleston, 
another  in  New  Orleans,  and  had  cleaned  out  a  New 


BARBARISM  153 

York  cake-walk  he  expressed  great  curiosity,  and 
wanted  to  know  if  you  were  down  on  all  his  race,  or 
merely  him.  Told  him  you  were  not  particular  who 
you  killed,  as  long  as  it  was  a  colored  man.  Ques 
tionable  business  for  a  naval  officer  to  be  in,  but — 
all's  fair  in  love  and — hellships." 

Dick  smiled  weakly,  in  the  darkness,  remembering 
the  similar  report  he  had  given  Bessie  of  Breen,  and 
both  were  silent  for  an  interval;  then  Breen  spoke, 
slowly,  as  though  to  himself :  "  '  All's  fair  in  love 
and  war,'  they  say;  yet  there  are  some  things  that 
are  not  fair — which  are  decidedly  unfair." 

Dick  waited  for  more,  but  nothing  more  came. 
Then  he  thought,  for  the  first  time  since  the  drug 
ging,  of  his  own  unworthy  position — that  it  was  on 
his  account  alone  that  this  well-bred  young  gentle 
man  was  in  the  forecastle  of  an  outbound  ship,  saw 
ing  wood  for  a  negro  cook. 

"  I  know  what  you  refer  to,  Mr.  Breen,"  he  said ; 
"  and,  believe  me,  I'm  sorry ;  I  wouldn't  have  had  it 
happen  for  the  world." 

Breen  faced  him  squarely  in  the  darkness,  but 
there  was  no  light  for  Dick  to  note  the  expression  of 
his  face. 

"  I  know  I  was  a  fool,"  he  went  on,  "  an  insolent 
fool ;  and  after  putting  it  in  your  power  to  have  me 
court-martialed,  I  find  that  you  preferred  chasing 
me  through  sailor-town  to  help  me." 

"  Oh,"  said  Breen,  with  a  long  breath.  "  That's 
what  you  mean?  I  wasn't  thinking  of  that.  And 
don't  apologize,  Halpin — Billson,  I  mean.  We're 
getting  along  first-rate  now,  and  perhaps  we  can  get 
to  be  good  friends.  There's  much  about  you  that  I 
like  and  admire.  But  when  I  followed  you  that  even 
ing,  I  hated  you  a  little  bit  more  than  I  ever  ex- 


154  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

pected  to  hate  a  fellow-man.  I  didn't  do  it  for  you, 
but  for  Miss  Arthur.  And  I  don't  know  but  I'd  do 
it  again,  if  she  asked  me  to." 

It  is  not  pleasant  to  hear  of  being  hated,  even 
though  the  hatred  is  dead.  Dick  did  not  answer,  and 
the  two  sat  silently  on  the  hatch,  staring  mechanic 
ally  at  the  white  sheen  of  the  woodpile,  forward  of 
the  windlass,  each  busy  with  his  thoughts.  What 
Breen's  were,  Dick  could  not  guess ;  his  own  were 
tinged  at  first  with  jealous  satisfaction  that  he  was 
hated  because  of  Mabel's  interest  in  him;  then  he 
thought  wholly  of  her — the  splendid,  womanly  girl, 
who  could  so  strangely  influence  them  both — who 
had  held  his  heart  through  the  years  of  absence,  and 
who  could  dominate  this  strong  man  at  his  side ;  then 
he  thought,  with  growing  appreciation,  of  the  rare 
character  of  this  man,  who,  sensitive  and  sore,  hating 
him,  could  yet  risk  life  and  liberty  in  his  behalf — 
and  do  it  cheerfully.  Would  he  have  done  as  much 
for  Breen?  His  brain  said  yes,  and  his  heart  said  no. 
The  comparison  forced  upon  him  another  query: 
Which  was  worthiest  of  this  girl?  and  his  head  alone 
answered : — • 

"  He  is  a  gentleman :  I  throw  pea  soup  at  a  darkey 
and  run." 

Faintly  over  the  washing  of  the  sea  alongside,  and 
the  soughing  of  the  wind  aloft,  came  the  "  wheese, 
wheech  "  of  the  cook  sharpening  his  knife,  and  Breen 
aroused  himself  with  a  shiver. 

"  Next  time  you  douse  him,  drown  him.  Hold  his 
head  in  it." 

Which  goes  to  show  that  a  gentleman,  firmly  estab 
lished,  may  make  occasional  excursions — and  Dick 
understood. 


BARBARISM  155 


CHAPTER  XXXIV 

AT  eight  bells  Mr.  Thorpe  resumed  charge  of  his 
watch;  and,  as  Sawyer  had  proven  himself 
a  capable  officer,  he  was  transferred  to  the  port 
watch  under  Mr.  Thorpe,  while  the  second  mate 
went  back  to  the  starboard  watch.  This  promised 
to  relieve  Dick  of  a  good  share  of  abuse  from  Pig, 
but  promised  additional  trouble  for  Breen,  who  al 
ready  had  earned  the  personal  dislike  of  the  captain 
and  carpenter,  and  now  must  bear  with  a  watch 
officer  who  disapproved  of  him. 

But  Dick  found  that  the  tall,  mild-eyed,  good- 
looking  first  mate  was  a  past  master  of  an  art  in 
which  Pig  was  a  bungling  beginner.  While  this 
broad-shouldered  and  heavy-fisted  young  ruffian 
would  balk  at  no  foul  word  or  epithet,  and  with  un 
doubted  courage  would  assault  the  men,  singly  or 
collectively,  on  the  slightest  provocation,  Mr. 
Thorpe,  standing  still  in  one  spot,  with  his  best  arm 
in  a  sling  and  only  a  belaying-pin  in  his  boot  to  em 
phasize  his  remarks,  did  more,  in  the  eight  to  twelve 
watch  that  night,  to  lessen  Dick's  self-esteem,  than 
had  any  other  influence  which  had  come  into  his  life. 
The  mate's  orders  were  correct — loudly  spoken  when 
necessary,  soft  as  a  mother's  murmur  when  the  men 
were  near;  but  there  was  vitriol  in  the  tone,  and 
menace  in  the  slight  dropping  of  his  left  shoulder  and 
stiffening  of  the  arm  toward  the  implement  in  his 
boot.  Yet  it  was  not  this — not  these  physical  and 
visible  manifestations  of  power — which  could  be  met 
with  like  manifestations  more  or  less  successfully;  it 
was  the  colossal  egotism  of  the  man — the  innate  and 
aggressive  belief  in  himself,  in  his  sacredness  and 


156  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

necessity  to  the  world;  it  was  his  supreme  contempt 
for  these  animals  whom  he  was  forced  to  oversee,  a 
contempt  which  seemed  to  find  expression  in  resent 
ment  that  they  bore  the  shape  of  human  beings,  and 
dared  to  think,  speak,  and  suffer  in  a  human  way. 
He  used  but  little  profanity,  and  only  once  had  re 
course  to  the  belaying-pin — when  Winskel,  the  Rus 
sian,  unwittingly  passed  to  windward  of  him.  For 
this  breach  of  nautical  etiquette  he  felled  him  sense 
less — prone  upon  his  back.  Then  he  calmly  stepped 
upon  his  throat  as  he  walked  forward  a  few  paces  to 
order  Wagner  to  go  aloft  to  the  mizzen  royal. 
Winskel  had  taken  the  shortest  road  to  the  rigging, 
but  Wagner  was  better-bred,  and  made  a  detour  to 
leeward.  Dick  escaped  individual  attention  that 
watch,  but  went  to  his  bunk  at  eight  bells  wondering 
dimly  if  he  was  or  was  not  Dick  Halpin,  seaman 
gunner — cock-of-the-walk  in  the  old  Vermont.  He 
was  certainly  being  judged  by  standards  unknown 
to  him,  and  condemned  by  this  judgment. 

At  four  in  the  morning,  under  the  topgallant  fore 
castle,  Breen,  in  a  choking  rage,  informed  him  that 
he  had  successfully  run  the  gauntlet  of  the  sleeping 
first  and  third  mates  and  the  steward,  only  to  find 
the  door  between  the  fonvard  and  after  cabin  locked 
from  the  captain's  side.  Then,  on  his  way  out,  he 
had  been  seen  by  the  wakeful  steward,  who  arose  from 
his  berth,  followed  him,  and  bore  witness  to  Mr. 
Jones  on  the  poop  that  he  had  caught  him  stealing 
the  officers'  night  lunch  from  the  cabin  table.  Where 
upon  Mr.  Jones  had  called  him  aft  and  forcefully 
rebuked  him. 

"  Still,"  said  Breen,  as  he  rubbed  his  sore  spots, 
"  it's  better  that  the  steward  thought  I  was  after 
the  lunch.  I'll  try  again.  All  I  want  is  one  gun  and 


BARBARISM  157 

the  drop.  I'm  sorry  now  that  I  didn't  hold  to  my 
wheel.  It  would  be  easy  some  quiet  night  to  leave 
it  and  run  down  the  after  companion." 

"  I  could  do  that,"  answered  Dick,  eagerly ;  "  but  so 
far,"  he  added,  dubiously,  "  the  first  mate  hasn't  left 
the  poop.  Sawyer  attends  to  everything  forward." 

"  You  would  go  down,  search  the  skipper's  room, 
and  secure  his  pistols,  would  you  not?  " 

"  Why— yes." 

"  I  would  necessarily  be  forward,  perhaps  asleep. 
You  would  not  have  time  to  finish  the  search  and 
take  your  wheel  again — the  ship  would  come  up  or 
fall  off  and  you  would  be  discovered,  even  though  you 
succeeded  in  finding  the  guns.  You  would  have  to 
shoot  your  way  forward  to  waken  me.  You  would 
have  to  drop  the  first  and  third  mate — for  Sawyer 
is  conscientious, — you  would  waken  the  skipper  with 
the  noise,  and  you  would  have  to  drop  him,  too. 
Though  the  steward  would  be  an  easy  problem,  for 
ward  are  the  carpenter  and  cook,  besides  the  watch 
on  deck.  Good  luck  might  carry  you  through,  but — 
how  often  must  I  remind  you  of  your  status  under 
the  law — of  your  proximity  to  the  gallows?  If  you 
failed  to  reach  me  with  shots  enough  left  in  the  pis 
tols  to  finish  the  job  and  overawe  the  crew,  you  would 
go  in  irons,  if  you  were  not  killed;  and  unless  I  re 
peated  the  feat  and  succeeded  where  you  failed,  I 
could  not  save  you.  You  are  a  sailor  before  the 
mast,  and  the  law  of  your  country  has  placed  a  halter 
around  your  neck,  only  waiting  for  action  on  your 
part  to  draw  tight  the  knot — and  hang  you." 

"  But  why — how,"  asked  the  puzzled  Dick ;  "  how 
would  it  be  different  if  you  tried  it  and  failed?  You 
would  go  in  irons,  wouldn't  you?  " 

"  Yes,  but  I   am   a   commissioned   officer  of  the 


158  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

United  States  navy.  I  could  convince  any  consul,  or 
commissioner,  and  save  myself,  though  I  cannot  con 
vince  ignorant  brutes  like  these.  But  it  does  not 
follow  that  I  could  save  you.  Both  in  the  navy  and 
in  the  merchant  marine  a  sailor  is  denied  the  right 
of  self-defense:  more  certainly  is  he  denied  the  right 
to  take  the  initiative  in  assault.  No,  Billson,  you 
leave  this  to  me.  When  I  get  the  drop,  do  as  I  tell 
you,  and  you  will  be  safe." 

He  went  below;  and  until  coffee  time  Dick  paced 
the  deck  apart  from  his  watchmates,  wondering  at 
this  new  phase  of  class  distinction — half  inclined  to 
doubt  Breen's  premises.  But  his  intense  earnestness, 
and  evident  acquaintance  with  maritime  law,  with 
the  dominating  egotism  of  that  tall  man  on  the  poop, 
finally  decided  the  point  for  him.  The  mate  would 
not  so  dispassionately  have  felled  him  unless  sure  of 
his  ground:  the  ensign  would  not  so  strongly  insist 
on  caution  unless  sure  of  the  law  and  its  workings. 
He  had  been  willing  to  admit  the  intellectual  and 
social  superiority  of  Breen,  and  was  now  compelled 
to  admit  his  legal  advantage  over  him.  Was  it  from 
fault  of  his  own?  No,  he  had  expended  every  energy 
in  his  being  to  make  himself  what  he  was — to  trans 
form  the  weak  and  undersized  schoolboy  to  a  trained 
seaman  of  the  navy.  But  he  was  of  value  only  in 
the  navy.  It  had  been  energy  misdirected;  and 
though  it  was  not  his  fault,  the  remedy  lay  in  his 
own  hands.  Again  he  experienced  the  fever  of  ambi 
tion  that  had  fired  his  soul  when  he  walked  out  the 
country  road  to  Mr.  Bronscn's  farm,  and  later,  when 
resolved  to  quit  the  navy.  Nothing  but  a  war  v>-ith 
another  naval  power  would  give  him  a  chance  for  a 
commission,  and  war  was  far  away  from  the  United 
States.  He  must  quit  the  sea,  live  on  land,  and  learn 


BARBARISM  159 

something  not  included  in  the  tutelage  of  a  seaman 
apprentice.  But  to  quit  the  sea  he  must  safely  finish 
this  passage;  and  to  do  so  required  that  he  exercise 
self-control  and  moderation  of  speech  and  manner. 
He  must  follow  the  good  advice  of  Breen,  who  knew 
all  that  he  must  learn  to  make  himself  a  gentleman, 
but  who,  probably,  never  had  thrashed  an  enemy  in 
his  life. 

CHAPTER  XXXV 

IN  this  frame  of  mind  he  went  to  the  galley  door  to 
get  the  coffee  when,  at  three  bells,  the  cook's  rasp 
ing  voice  had  apprised  the  watch  that  it  was  ready. 
Perhaps  it  was  because  Dick  was  the  nearest  man  to 
the  galley  that  the  cook  placed  the  coffee-pot  on  the 
brick  flooring  far  enough  from  the  door  to  compel  a 
man  reaching  for  it  to  step  over  the  sill.  Perhaps 
it  was  accidental.  Dick  entered  the  galley  bodily, 
one  foot  following  the  other  over  the  sill,  and  as 
he  stooped  for  the  coffee-pot  he  heard  a  snarl  from 
the  cook  at  the  stove  amidships,  and:  "  Get  out  o'  my 
galley,  you  no-'count  trash.  Wha'  you  come  in  my 
galley  f o'  ?  "  Then  he  received  on  his  breast  and 
shoulders  the  contents  of  a  half-gallon  pot  which  had 
rested  on  the  stove  convenient  to  the  cook's  hand 
when  he  entered.  It  was  boiling  hot  salt  water,  and 
a  little  of  it  splashed  his  cheek. 

With  a  furious  cry  of  pain  and  rage  he  shrunk 
back,  then — ethical  distinctions  flown  to  the  winds — 
bounded  across  the  galley  after  the  cook,  who  picked 
up  his  knife  on  the  way  and  retreated,  still  cursing, 
to  the  other  door.  Here  Dick  caught  him;  he 
wrenched  the  knife  from  his  hands  and  tossed  it 
away;  then,  frantic  with  pain,  he  gripped  the  black 


160  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

throat  and  squeezed  to  silence  the  vindictive  voice — 
and  remembered  himself.  He  must  not  kill.  Then 
came  the  thought  that  in  this  passion  he  had  seen  no 
red,  and  again  he  gave  rein  to  his  rage ;  but  he  simply 
held  the  inert  cook  by  the  collar,  and  with  his  free 
fist  pounded  his  face  until  it  lost  most  of  its  human 
characteristics.  He  was  interrupted  by  Sawyer,  who 
caught  his  hand. 

"  What  for,  Billson?  "  he  asked. 

"  Scalded  me,"  answered  Dick,  choking  with  pain. 
"  Scalded  me  for  stepping  into  the  galley  after  the 
coffee.  Feel  my  shirt — it's  hot  yet." 

Sawyer  investigated. 

"  You'll  be  all  of  a  blister.  Let  go  the  nigger. 
Get  some  paint  oil  out  o'  the  locker,  and  rub  yerself. 
I'll  see  the  old  man  and  tell  him  'bout  this  business 
when  he  turns  out." 

The  negro  sputtered  a  parting  threat  at  Dick  as  he 
slunk  to  his  stove,  and  Sawyer  supported  Dick  to 
the  forecastle,  for  he  was  still  weak  from  the  loss  of 
blood  he  had  suffered  the  day  before.  Here  his 
watchmates,  who  had  secured  the  coffee,  assisted  in 
removing  his  shirt  and  anointing  his  blistered  shoul 
ders  with  oil.  He  did  not  replace  the  shirt,  for 
though  the  oil  relieved  the  smarting,  still  there  was 
enough  of  agony  in  the  mere  pressure  of  a  passing 
breath  of  air  to  make  him  wish  for  death  itself,  rather 
than  suffer  contact  with  harsh  flannel.  He  sat  on  a 
chest  and  drank  his  coffee,  and  when  the  others  had 
filed  out  to  begin  washing  down  the  deck  he  still  sat 
there,  waiting  for  the  captain  to  turn  out,  when,  in 
humanity's  name  alone,  he  could  expect  relief  from 
the  medicine  chest.  But  he  reckoned  without  Mr. 
Thorpe,  who  appeared  at  the  door  just  after  four 
bells  had  struck. 


BARBARISM  161 

"  Your  wheel?  "  he  asked  in  a  quiet  voice. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  answered  Dick,  as  evenly  as  was  pos 
sible. 

"  Come  out  and  take  it.  You're  too  fond  of  this 
forecastle.  It's  harder  to  get  you  out  to  your  work 
than  to  run  the  ship.  I've  given  you  time  enough 
to  fix  yourself  up.  Now,  out  o'  this." 

"  All  right,  sir,"  said  Dick,  standing  up  and  reach 
ing  for  his  shirt.  He  was  a  pitiable  object,  with  his 
haggard  face  contracted  in  pain  and  his  naked,  blis 
tered  shoulders  shivering  with  cold  and  the  agony 
of  each  movement ;  but  there  was  no  pity  in  the  mild, 
blue  eyes  looking  at  him,  and  he  knew  better  than 
to  appeal.  He  drew  the  shirt  over  his  head  and  ad 
justed  it,  while  involuntary  wheezing  groans  burst 
through  his  tightly  locked  teeth. 

"  That's  a  little  man,"  sneered  the  mate.  "  Now, 
don't  cry  this  time,  and  next  voyage  you  must  bring 
your  mamma  to  sea  with  you.  Put  on  your  little 
coat  and  your  little  cap,  and  come  along." 

And  thus  was  Dick  taught  the  standard  of  forti 
tude  required  of  the  American  merchant  sailor.  He 
did  not  assimilate  the  lesson  at  once — he  was  suffer 
ing  too  much,  but  as  he  steered  his  trick  in  bodily 
torment,  enough  of  a  dogged,  helpless  fury  entered 
his  soul  to  prevent  his  asking  the  captain  for  reme 
dies.  And  when  the  captain,  ill-humored  before  his 
breakfast,  contemptuously  stared  him  over  in  re 
sponse  to  Sawyer's  earnest  explanation  of  the  case, 
and  remarked:  "  Steerin'  all  right,  ain't  he?  Able 
to  work?  What  more  does  he  want?"  he  was  glad 
that  h^  had  not  asked,  and  was  bitterly  content. 

He  recovered  as  he  could,  while  the  Mary  Earl 
traversed  the  first  long  leg  of  the  zigzag  which  sail 
ing  craft  steer  going  south,  and,  turning  the  corner, 


162  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

caught  the  southeast  trade  and  sailed  over  toward 
the  South  American  coast.  But  even  while  still  a  fit 
subject  for  a  hospital,  he  was  not  immune  from  fur 
ther  ill-treatment  from  his  superiors.  Sawyer  never 
raised  his  hand,  and  seldom  his  voice,  in  dealing  with 
the  men,  and  found  no  trouble  in  being  understood 
and  obeyed ;  but  each  man  of  the  crew,  on  an  average 
of  twice  a  week,  suffered  contact  with  Mr.  Jones's 
fists  or  boots,  or  from  the  left-handed  use  of  Mr. 
Thorpe's  belaying-pin,  and  listened  daily  to  Captain 
Bilker's  profanely  expressed  bad  opinion  of  them. 
Pig  kicked  Dick  enthusiastically  at  first,  then  confi 
dently  and  carelessly;  and  one  day,  having  knocked 
him  down,  looked  at  him  with  an  expression  on  his 
dull  face  born  of  an  idea  struggling  into  his  brain. 

"  Great  heavens,"  he  said,  "  but  ye  can't  be  Red 
head  Halpin.  That  boy  could  fight  a  little  bit." 

"  No,"  mused  Dick,  when  safely  out  of  range ; 
*'  I'm  not.  Perhaps  I  never  shall  be  again." 

Three  times  Breen  reported  failure  to  enter  the 
after  cabin  before  finally  giving  up  the  plan ;  and 
almost  daily  he  reported  some  brutal  happening  of 
the  night  before,  or  some  bungling  mistake  on  Pig's 
part  which  had  aroused  the  captain  and  brought 
down  his  wrath. 

"  By  all  signs,  Dick," — he  had  lately  begun  calling 
him  thus — "  he'll  not  last  long  as  second  mate. 
There  may  be  a  vacancy  there.  Sawyer'll  be  second 
mate,  but  the  skipper  may  want  a  third  mate." 

"  Perhaps  not.  The  ship  sailed  without  one,  and 
Sawyer  only  got  aft  because  the  mate  was  laid  up. 
But  if  Pig  comes  forward,  is  there  any  reason  why 
I  shouldn't  take  him  down  a  little  farther?  " 

"  None — except  that  it  would  call  attention  to 
your  powers  as  a  scrapper.  If  the  skipper  really 


BARBARISM  163 

wanted  a  third  mate,  and  we  were  sure  of  it,  you 
might  win  the  promotion  by  your  fists,  as  I  under 
stand  that  is  the  usual  way.  But  even  then  you 
couldn't  get  into  the  after  cabin.  No,  let  Pig  alone 
until  I  get  hold  of  a  gun,  or  we  resolve  on  a  forlorn 
hope  with  handspikes.  You're  a  well-licked,  self- 
contained  scrapper  now — just  the  man  to  depend 
upon  when  the  time  comes." 

"  As  a  last  resort,"  said  Dick,  thoughtfully,  "  I 
suppose  we  might,  kindly  and  mercifully,  disable  the 
steward  some  night." 

"  I  wouldn't  hesitate — I'm  hanged  if  I  would, — 
only,  the  little  man  never  comes  forward  of  the  galley 
door  after  dark.  How  is  your  friend  Chips  coming 
on?" 

"  Good — or  rather,  bad.  I  think  the  tension  is 
unsettling  him.  He  called  me  into  his  shop  the 
other  day  and  showed  me  his  nice  sharp  broad-axe. 
He's  using  his  whetstone  on  it  now,  and  it'll  cut  a 
hair.  He  says  the  cook  sharpens  his  knife  all  night, 
and  it  keeps  him  awake." 

"  That's  bad.  I've  no  particular  love  for  him ; 
but  I  don't  like  the  idea  of  engineering  a  man  out  of 
his  sanity ;  and  yet — I'm  a  cold-blooded  egotist  where 
my  own  sanity  is  concerned.  I  sometimes  fear  for 
myself.  Ever  see  red  now?  " 

"  Xot  a  bit,"  answered  Dick.  "  I'm  getting  that 
much  good  out  of  this." 

CHAPTER  XXXVI 

IT  was  the  last  dog-watch,  the  only  time  in  the 
twenty-four  hours   when   both   watches   were   at 
leisure,  and  Dick  Halpin  and  Ensign  Breen  dared  to 
converse  openly. 


164  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

They  were  walking  up  and  down  near  the  fore 
hatch.  In  the  alley  between  the  forward  house  and 
the  weather  rail  the  watch  on  deck  was  gathered  in 
groups,  while  the  watch  below  passed  in  and  out  of 
their  own  forecastle,  their  voices  rising  in  discon 
nected  murmurs  over  the  rush  of  the  wind  through 
the  rigging  and  the  swash  of  the  sea.  The  cold 
night  of  the  southern  winter  had  fallen,  and  in  the 
northwest  a  half  moon  shone  brightly,  illumining  be 
tween  the  obscurations  of  racing  clouds  every  detail 
of  the  deck  and  top-hamper,  but,  when  hidden, 
throwing  the  whole  fabric  into  shadow  blacker  from 
the  contrast.  Out  of  the  darkness  at  such  a  moment 
came  the  tall  figure  of  the  carpenter,  who  peered  into 
their  faces. 

"  Hist,  lad,"  he  said  cautiously  to  Dick.  "  Come 
awa'.  Come  wi'  me  a  bit." 

He  led  him  over  to  the  rail,  and  lowering  his 
mouth  to  his  ear,  whispered :  "  To-night's  the 
night." 

"To-night,"  repeated  Dick.  "The  night  for 
what?  " 

"  To-night's  the  night,"  said  Chips,  impressively. 
"  It's  been  a-tellin'  me  all  the  day.  To-night,  at 
eight  bells  i'  the  last  dog-watch,  he'll  have  his  knife 
sharp  enough  to  suit  him." 

"  What — who's  been  telling  you  ?  What  do  you 
mean,  Chips?  " 

"  The  voice — the  wee  bit  voice  in  my  ear,  lad. 
D'ye  no  hear  it  yerseP?  Hear  it  noo?  '  Eight  bells 
i'  the  last  dog-watch.'  He's  at  it  noo.  Hear  him — 
a-grindin'  and  a-scrapin'  wi'  his  butcher's  steel.  And 
he's  gettin'  nought  but  a  wire  eedge — nought  but  a 
wire  eedge.  And  he  don't  know,  the  loon;  he  don't 
know." 


BARBARISM  165 

The  carpenter  chuckled;  and  Dick  listened,  but 
heard  no  sound  of  knife  sharpening. 

"  He  don't  know,"  continued  Chips.  "  But  you 
do,  lad.  Saw  ye  ever  the  like  of  such  an  eedge  as  I 
ha'  put  on  the  broad-axe !  And  he's  nought  but  a  wire 
eedge  on  his  bit  o'  pot  metal."  And  again  the  car 
penter  chuckled  joyously.  Then  he  bolted  aft  in 
the  darkness,  and  Dick  returned  thoughtfully  to 
Breen  at  the  hatch. 

"  He  hears  voices,"  he  said ;  "  and  he  hears  the 
cook  sharpening  his  knife;  but  I  couldn't.  He's 
half  crazy.  I  haven't  heard  that  knife  sharpening 
since  he  scalded  me." 

"  Nor  I.  No  doubt  you  discouraged  him.  He 
would  cheerfully  knife  you  if  he  dared,  but  as  I 
said,  he  is  a  poltroon  from  his  wool  down.  And 
Chips  is  safe  enough  if  he  only  knew  it." 

"  Chips  must  have  been  a  little  touched  before  it 
began.  Otherwise,  why  don't  I  hear  voices?  We're 
in  the  same  boat." 

"  Difference  of  age,  temperament,  and  brand  of 
lunacy.  You  were  a  little  touched,  too,  and  I'm 
catching  it.  What  cures  one  man  kills  another. 
There  goes  eight  bells." 

The  tinkle  of  the  bell  sounded  at  the  wheel,  and 
Breen  stepped  toward  the  large  bell  at  the  foremast 
to  repeat  the  strokes.  Before  he  could  do  so,  a 
hoarse,  blood-freezing  shriek  rang  out  from  the  lee 
galley  door,  and,  amid  startled  exclamations  of 
jostled  men,  the  carpenter's  voice  followed  with: 
"  Help !  Help !  Murder !  "  Then  he  sprang  around 
the  corner  of  the  house  and  mounted  the  fore  hatch. 

"  Shut  up  that  noise  forrard,  there,"  shouted  Mr. 
Jones  from  the  poop.  "  Strike  eight  bells.  What's 
the  matter?  " 


166  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

Breen  struck  the  bell,  and  the  watch  below,  already 
out  of  the  forecastle,  followed  the  carpenter,  while 
the  others  from  the  weather  alley  trooped  forward. 
The  moon,  suddenly  appearing  from  behind  a  cloud, 
illumined  their  wondering  faces  and  the  distorted 
features  of  the  carpenter  on  the  hatch.  He  stood 
with  arms  raised  over  his  head,  eyes  blazing,  and  lips 
drawn  tightly  over  his  teeth,  while  incoherent  growls 
came  from  his  throat. 

"Hold  him!"  he  screamed  at  last.  "Hold  the 
black  cutthroat.  Take  awa'  tne  knife — the  knife — 
the  knife.  It  has  a  wire  eedge." 

"  It's  all  right,  Chips,"  called  Dick,  advancing 
toward  him.  "  The  cook  isn't  there." 

The  carpenter  turned,  glared  at  him,  and  shrank 
away  from  him. 

"  Back,  ye  murderin'  de'il,"  he  roared.  "  Back 
wP  ye.  Ha'  ye  no  done  enough  ?  " 

He  bounded  down  to  leeward,  turned  sharply,  and 
rushed  through  the  group  of  men,  scattering  them 
right  and  left.  Aft  he  went,  yelling  ceaselessly, 
meeting  Mr.  Jones  at  the  mainmast  and  upsetting 
him.  He  mounted  the  poop  steps  in  two  bounds, 
sped  along  the  alley,  and  the  crew,  crowding  aft, 
saw  him  poised  for  an  instant  on  the  taffrail.  Then, 
with  a  long,  mournful  wail  echoing  from  his  lips,  he 
disappeared  from  sight  just  as  the  moon  hid  behind 
a  cloud. 

"  Man  overboard ! "  sang  out  the  helmsman. 
"  Man  overboard !  " 

"  Put  yer  wheel  down,"  roared  Mr.  Jones  from 
amidships.  "  All  hands  forrard  there.  Stand 
by  braces  fore  and  aft.  Clear  away  that  lee 
quarter  boat.  Hard  down  yer  wheel.  Hard 
down." 


BARBARISM  167 

"  Hard  down,  sir,"  answered  the  man  at  the  wheel. 
"  Hard  down  it  is." 

Men  scattered  to  stations  for  tacking  ship,  and 
Mr.  Jones  hurried  aft,  while  the  ship  came  slowly  up 
to  the  wind.  Dick  was  one  of  the  jib-sheet  men,  and 
he  mounted  the  forecastle  deck,  where,  as  going  about 
on  the  other  tack  was  obviously  unnecessary,  he 
expected  to  do  nothing;  but  a  thundering  voice — 
louder  than  Pig's — from  the  poop  changed  the  pros 
pect.  The  captain  was  on  deck. 

"  Hard  up  that  wheel — quick !  "  roared  the  voice. 
"  Clap  on  to  them  weather  jib-sheets  forrard  there. 
Trim  over  to  windward.  Forrard  all  hands  o'  ye. 
Stand  by  weather  f  orebraces.  Oh !  " — and  the  roar 
ing  voice  took  on  a  note  of  distress — "  Oh — oh,  you 
d — d  two-ends-an'-the-bight-of-a-poor-fool,  just  look 
at  my  ship  now !  Look  at  her !  Let  go  to  looward ! 
Haul  'round  them  foreyards  !  'Round  wi'  'em !  Box 
this  ship  back  'fore  the  spars  go !  Get  forrard  out  o' 
this,  you  infernal  lunkhead  1  Get  out  o'  my  sight !  " 

Mr.  Jones,  saying  nothing  in  reply,  headed  the 
rush  of  men  to  the  f  orebraces;  but  it  was  too  late. 
They  had  not  bent  the  heavy  weather  canvas  needed 
in  those  latitudes,  and  the  old,  patched-up  rags  aloft 
could  not  stand  the  shaking  they  were  receiving. 
Royals  went  first,  then  topgallantsails  and  topsails, 
and  before  the  ship,  under  the  influence  of  the  backed 
foreyards  and  the  still  intact  lower  foretopsail,  had 
begun  to  swing  back,  nearly  every  sail  aloft,  as  well 
as  the  two  outer  jibs,  was  in  ribbons.  Then  came 
in  the  order :  "  Swing  the  foreyards  and  trim  over 
head  sheets."  Dick,  at  the  forebraces,  heard  Sawyer, 
aft  near  the  quarter  boat,  say :  "  Then  ye  won't  get 
a  boat  over,  sir?  " 

"Boat  over?"  yelled  the  captain.     "Boat  over 


168  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

— for  a  man  crazy  enough  to  jump?  Not  for  the 
best  man  aboard.  Let  them  gripes  alone  an'  'tend 
to  yer  work  forrard." 

"Aye,  aye,  sir."    And  Sawyer  joined  the  others. 

All  hands  remained  on  deck  that  night,  sending 
aloft  and  bending  canvas.  It  was  work  that  needed 
light,  and  lanterns  were  lit.  One  of  these,  shining  in 
through  the  galley  door  for  a  moment,  disclosed  to 
the  man  carrying  it  the  body  of  the  cook,  stretched 
out  face  down  on  the  galley  floor,  with  the  carpenter's 
broad-axe  buried  in  his  head.  He  had  been  struck 
from  behind. 

Later  investigation  disclosed  the  carving  knife 
in  its  place  in  the  rack  on  the  bulkhead,  in  company 
with  the  steel,  fork,  and  long  spoons  used  in  cooking. 
It  was  no  sharper  than  it  ought  to  have  been. 


CHAPTER  XXXVII 

IT  was  Dick's  wheel  from  six  to  eight  next  morn 
ing,  and  when  four  bells  had  struck,  he  went  to 
take  it,  noticing,  in  the  gathering  light,  the  body  of 
the  cook  on  the  mizzen  hatch,  and  Mr.  Jones  busy 
with  the  last  stitches  in  its  canvas  shroud.  As  he 
steered  his  trick,  he  marveled  at  the  unofficerlike 
character  of  the  work,  then  remembered  that  through 
the  night  he  had  not  once  heard  the  voice  of  the 
second  mate;  but  it  was  not  until  seven  bells  had 
struck  that  his  guess  was  confirmed.  The  captain 
came  up  the  after  companion  with  a  Bible  in  his 
hand,  and  stepped  forward  to  the  break  of  the  poop, 
while  the  crew,  at  Sawyer's  call,  mustered  aft  to  the 
mizzen  hatch.  Dick,  at  the  wheel,  could  see  nothing 
but  the  tall  figure  of  the  captain,  and  could  hear  little 


BARBARISM  169 

but  his  voice.  He  laid  the  Book  on  the  monkey-rail, 
and  began. 

"  Men,"  he  said,  solemnly,  "  we're  mustered  here  to 
give  the  cook  a  send-off  'cordin'  to  rule — not  as  how 
I  can  see  as  it's  goin'  to  do  him  any  good — it  seems 
to  me  that  if  prayin'  could  do  him  any  good,  it 
oughter  have  come  'long  'fore  he  died.  Same  with 
the  carpenter,  who's  some  miles  astern  now.  Just 
the  same,  I'll  read  the  sarvice  for  both  of  'em,  and 
which  ever  of  'em  it  fits  the  best,  why,  I  suppose, 
will  get  it.  First  thing,  though,  before  we  get  rid 
o'  the  cook,  we'll  fill  his  place."  Dick  pricked  up  his 
ears. 

"  Now,  you,  there,"  continued  the  captain,  "  you 
big-headed,  bull-headed,  fool-headed  lobster,  that 
thinks  he's  a  second  mate,  you  get  into  that  room 
o'  yours,  and  you  get  your  duds  out  of  it  and  into 
the  cook's  room,  while  I'm  lookin'  at  you.  You 
hear?  Not  a  word !  You're  cook  o'  this  ship  from 
now  on,  or  you  go  in  irons  in  the  'tween  deck.  What 
d'ye  say  now?  " 

The  captain  drew  a  revolver  from  his  pocket,  and 
placed  it  upon  the  Bible.  Dick  heard  muffled  words 
from  the  main  deck,  but  nothing  intelligible.  Then 
he  saw  the  captain  replace  the  pistol  in  his  pocket. 
"  That's  sensible,"  he  continued.  "  Let's  see  you 
keep  it  up.  Go  in  there,  one  o'  you,  and  give  him  a 
hand  with  his  chest." 

Captain  Bilker  began  pacing  the  poop,  and  ten 
minutes  went  by  before  he  spoke  again ;  then  he  ad 
vanced  to  the  rail,  opened  the  Book,  paused  while 
he  took  off  his  hat  and  jammed  it  into  his  coat 
pocket,  and  read  a  chapter  chosen  at  random.  Fin 
ishing,  he  closed  the  Book,  put  on  his  hat,  and  waved 
his  hand  to  those  below. 


170  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

"  Over  with  him,"  he  said,  and  then  stepped  to 
the  rail. 

One  end  of  the  canvas  sack  circled  into  view  over 
the  edge  of  the  poop,  as  the  body  shot  through  the 
gangway,  and  Dick  heard  the  splash.  The  cook's 
funeral  was  over. 

"  Gawd,"  said  the  captain,  peering  over  the  side. 
"  Reg'lar  belly-cut  dive." 

Whether  it  was  this  remark,  the  grisly  incongruity 
of  the  whole  proceeding,  or  a  sort  of  hysteria  coming 
after  his  night  of  fatigue,  with  an  unsuspected  sense 
of  relief  at  the  removal  of  Pig's  and  the  cook's 
menace  as  a  prompting  agency,  that  brought  it  on, 
Dick  never  could  determine.  He  began  to  laugh, 
softly  but  unconstrainedly ;  and  when  Captain  Bilker 
came  aft,  Bible  in  hand,  and  glared  reprovingly  at 
him,  he  still  continued. 

"  What's  the  matter  wi'  you  ?  "  he  demanded. 

"  N-n-nothing,  sir,"  answered  Dick,  flushing. 

"  Yes,  there  is  somethin',  I  tell  yer.  Somethin' 
up  yer  sleeve,  damn  ye,"  stormed  the  captain.  "  And 
I'm  dead  on  to  you,  my  fo'castle  lawyer.  You're 
slick,  but  I'm  slicker.  You  grin  in  my  face,  will 
yer?  I'll  see  'f  my  first  mate  ain't  right,  after  all. 
Mr.  Thorpe,"  he  bawled  forward,  "  call  all  hands 
aft  again."  Then  he  returned  to  the  break  of  the 
poop,  and  Dick,  sober  of  face  now,  with  no  inclina 
tion  to  laughter,  bore  the  malevolent  glances  of  the 
insulted  autocrat,  as  he  paced  back  and  forth  while 
waiting  for  the  men. 

The  starboard  watch  trooped  out  of  the  fore 
castle  from  their  interrupted  breakfast,  and  joined 
the  others  on  their  way  aft.  The  captain  looked 
down  on  them. 

"  I've  given  you  men  a  good  long  time  to  produce 


BARBARISM  171 

the  one  that  broke  Mr.  Thorpe's  arm,"  he  said. 
"  Time's  up.  Pass  him  out  at  once,  or  back  ye  go  to 
yer  first  grub." 

Dick  heard  an  indistinct  voice  answering,  and 
then,  from  the  captain : 

"  Ye'll  tell  me  on  the  poop,  hey  ?  What's  the 
matter  wi'  tellin'  where  ye  are?  Hey?  All  right. 
Come  up  here,  then,  and  no  games." 

Smith,  the  cockney,  arose  to  Dick's  view  on  the 
steps,  and  his  voice  became  intelligible. 

"  Hi've  talked  to  hall  'ands  forrard,  sir,  hand 
we're  hall  hagreed,  though  that's  not  syin'  we  can 
prove  hit,  sir.  But  hall  of  hus  think  has  'ow  it  was 
the  man  you  took  haft  has  a  hofficer.  He  was  quick 
to  deny  hit  forrard,  sir,  but  he  was  just  has  quick 
to  swear  hit  wasn't  Billson,  when  the  mate  thought 
hit  was.  He  knowed  who  hit  was,  sir;  hit  was  'isself, 
hand  hall  'ands  thinks  so,  sir." 

"  That'll  do.  Get  down  off  the  poop,"  said  the 
captain.  "  Mr.  Sawyer,"  he  called,  "  step  up  here." 

Smith  went  down,  and  Sawyer  soon  appeared,  fol 
lowing  Captain  Bilker  aft  through  the  alley. 

"  Mr.  Sawyer,"  said  the  latter,  facing  him,  "  the 
men  accuse  you  of  bein'  the  man  who  broke  into  the 
mate's  room  first  night  out.  I've  made  you  second 
mate,  and  so  far  I've  no  fault  to  find  wi5  you;  but 
I  want  this  settled.  Did  you?  Or  was  it  this  man 
here?  I  want  the  truth,  now." 

Sawyer  looked  at  Dick,  and  there  was  the  barest 
suspicion  of  a  wink  in  his  humorous  eye;  then  he 
looked  gravely  and  respectfully  into  the  captain's 
face. 

"  It  was  me,  cap'n,"  he  answered. 

"  You,  was  it  ?  And  why  didn't  you  own  up  to 
it?" 


172  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

"  Didn't  want  to  get  shot  or  thumped.  I  was 
'fore  the  mast  then,  cap'n.  You've  made  me  an 
officer,  and  I'm  much  obliged  for  the  favor;  but  just 
the  same  it  makes  a  mighty  sight  o'  difference  if 
anything  happens  to  me  this  v'yage.  As  man  to 
man  I'm  not  afraid  o'  Mr.  Thorpe  now." 

"  But  what  were  you  after?  What  did  you  want 
in  his  room?  " 

"  Haven't  the  slightest  idea,  sir ;  I  was  drunk 
enough  for  anythin',  but  not  too  drunk  to  fight,  and 
remember  what  happened.  He  struck  at  me,  and  I 
twisted  his  arm.  Now,  cap'n,  you  can  put  me  forrard 
again,  and  take  Mr.  Jones,  or  any  one  else,  aft  in  my 
place;  but,  remember,  if  anything  happens  to  me, 
I'm  an  officer." 

"  Can  you  square  yerself  wi'  Mr.  Thorpe?  " 

"  Don't  care  a  rap,  cap'n,  whether  I  can  or  not. 
I'm  second  mate — he's  only  first.  He  ran  foul  o' 
me  on  deck  that  first  night,  and  things  are  kinder 
square  as  they  are." 

Captain  Bilker  walked  over  to  the  weather  rail, 
and  stared  to  windward,  and  Sawyer  improved  the 
occasion  by  winking  solemnly  and  warningly  at  the 
amazed  Dick.  Then  the  captain  returned. 

"  If  I  send  you  forrard  I'll  have  to  take  that  swine 
back  again;  and  I  don't  want  him — he's  more  at 
home  in  the  galley,  where  he  put  in  his  first  voyage. 
But  if  I  keep  you  aft,  how'll  you  get  on  wi'  the  men  ? 
How'll  you  get  on  wi'  the  mate?  " 

"  Easy  enough,  sir.  The  men'll  be  much  obliged 
to  me  for  gettin'  them  full  an'  plenty,  as  you 
promised  'em,  sir.  Keep  me  aft  and  they'll  do  as  I 
tell  'em,  just  as  they  have  been  doin'.  Put  me 
forrard,  and  I'll  thump  the  last  man  of  'em  for 
givin*  me  away.  Keep  me  aft,  and  I'll  take  the 


BARBARISM  173 

mate's  orders,  do  my  work,  and  know  my  place ;  but 
if  he  runs  foul  o'  me,  I'll  break  his  left  arm  as  easy 
as  I  did  his  right." 

Captain  Bilker  paced  a  few  turns  from  rail  to  rail, 
then  said : 

"All  right.  Settle  it  wi'  the  mate.  I'll  talk  it 
sver  with  him  myself.  Send  the  watch  to  breakfast." 

Sawyer  went  forward,  and  the  captain  turned 
fiercely  on  Dick. 

"What  the  h — 1  you  laughin'  at  just  now?"  he 
demanded. 

"At  the  way  the  cook  went  over,  sir,  and  at  what 
you  said,"  answered  Dick,  suddenly  realizing  that 
nothing  was  so  good  as  the  truth. 

Captain  Bilker  studied  him  from  his  head  to  his 
feet,  and  with  a  half  snort,  half  grunt,  went  down 
to  his  breakfast. 

CHAPTER  XXXVIII 


BEYOND  that  comprehensive  wink  to  Dick  at  the 
wheel,  Sawyer  offered  no  explanation  of  his 
vicarious  confession,  and  the  two  friends  reasoned 
that,  secure  in  his  advantage,  he  had  done  it  out  of 
the  goodness  of  his  heart,  not  only  to  relieve  Dick, 
and  possibly  Breen,  from  suspicion,  but  to  throw  the 
captain  back  upon  his  promise  and  secure  better  food 
for  the  men.  The  latter  result  was  attained,  for 
Captain  Bilker,  loudly  proclaiming  himself  a  man 
of  his  word,  ordered  the  steward  to  give  them  "  full 
and  plenty  " — which  meant  the  addition  to  the  gov 
ernment  allowance  of  a  few  of  the  substitutes  and  an 
additional  quart  of  water  per  diem. 

What  difference,  if  any,  Sawyer's  confession  made 
in    his    relations    with    Mr.    Thorpe    never    became 


174  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

Jknown  in  the  forecastle.  Work  went  on  without 
apparent  friction  between  the  two,  and  much^more 
smoothly  as  regarded  the  men.  It  was  as  if  the 
tragic  deaths  of  the  cook  and  carpenter  had  exer 
cised  a  humanizing  effect  on  Mr.  Thorpe;  for, 
though  his  tongue  was  as  bitter  as  ever,  he  rarely 
raised  his  belaying-pin  from  his  boot.  As  for  Pig, 
the  full  measure  of  his  disgrace  hardly  seemed  to 
come  home  to  him.  As  cook  he  could  secure  for 
himself  as  good  food  as  was  served  in  the  cabin ;  his 
berth  was  as  comfortable,  and  his  duties  were  easier. 
After  a  few  days  of  moroseness  and  surliness,  he 
settled  into  an  apathetic,  porcine  indifference,  from 
which  he  aroused  himself  only  to  growl  curses  on 
Dick's  head  when  he  passed  the  galley  door.  Dick 
heard  them,  and  asked  Breen's  permission  to  silence 
them. 

"  No !  "  snapped  Breen ;  "  you're  to  keep  out  of 
trouble.  Great  heavens !  "  he  exclaimed,  passionately, 
"what  have  I  done  to  be  compelled  to  suffer  like 
this  ?  "  He  had  been  all  day  at  a  washtub,  and  his 
knuckles  were  sore. 

"  But,"  answered  Dick,  gently,  "  why  need  you  ? 
It  is  much  easier  for  me  to  bear  it  than  for  you. 
There  are  only  two  aft  now — for  Sawyer  doesn't 
count,  provided  we  succeed — and  one  is  crippled. 
Why  not — you  and  I — sneak  aft  in  my  watch  some 
night,  floor  the  mate,  gag  him,  go  down  and  fix  the 
skipper,  and  get  his  pistols  and  gun.  Then  we'll 
have  charge." 

"  Yes,  we  might.  I've  talked  bravely  enough  about 
it,  and  yet — call  it  cowardice  if  you  like ;  but  I  don't 
say  that  I  wouldn't  on  impulse — you  see,  some  one 
would  be  killed,  surely.  Some  of  the  men,  perhaps, 
who  wouldn't  understand.  I  know  that  I  should  be 


BARBARISM 

exonerated,  and  yet  I  hesitate  at  bloodshed.  If  it 
were  in  time  of  war  I  should  drive  ahead.  War  ex 
cuses  killing,  even  to  a  man's  own  conscience.  I 
had  really  hoped,  that  in  case  of  a  vacancy  in  the 
galley — which  I  confess  now  I  didn't  wish  for — I 
should  be  made  cabin  flunkey,  or  something  of  that 
sort,  while  the  steward  cooked  for  all  hands.  Now 
I  am  stalled  again." 

"  I've  a  good  mind,"  said  Dick,  slowly  and 
thoughtfully,  "  to  take  this  upon  myself.  There  is 
a  difference  of  training,  perhaps  temperament,  be 
tween  us,  and  I  have  none  of  your  scruples.  I  can 
overcome  them  both  in  three  minutes — one  after  the 
other.  Then  I  can  arm  myself  in  two  minutes,  at 
least.  Five  minutes'  work  will  do  it." 

"  And  hang  you." 

"But  why?"  asked  Dick,  vehemently.  "I  am 
the  government's  hired  man.  My  government  has 
trained  me  to  fight.  I  am  taken  forcibly  from  my 
job,  and  I  fight  as  I  have  been  taught,  to  get  back  to 
my  work.  Why  should  my  government  hang  me?  '* 

"  Because  certain  legal  gentlemen  would  conceive 
it  their  duty  to  arrange  it,"  answered  Breen,  wearily. 
"  We  need  not  argue  this  question.  If  you  fall  back 
upon  your  relation  to  your  government,  I  fall  back 
upon  mine.  As  your  officer,  I  forbid  you  to  assault 
any  one  aboard  this  ship  until  I  take  the  initiative  and 
so  direct  you.  I  also  order  you  to  report  to  me 
twenty-four  hours  hence  any  plan  you  may  be  able 
to  think  of  which  will  give  me  possession  of  arms 
without  previous  friction.  I  will  think  also.  My 
duties  now  are  light  and  conducive  to  thought.  I 
am  the  skipper's  laundryman.  I  have  washed  his 
shirts  to-day;  to-morrow  I  expect  to  have  his  socks." 

Dick  pondered  through  the  middle  watch  on  the 


176  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

ensign's  new  attitude,  but  not  until  he  had  rolled  into 
his  bunk  at  four  in  the  morning  had  he  brought  the 
problem  to  a  satisfactory  solution. 

"  Breen's  a  gentleman,  to  begin  with,"  he  mused. 
"  As  a  gentleman,  he  regards  fighting,  knock-downs, 
and  such  things  as  ungentlemanly  unless  in  behalf 
of  others,  or  for  a  principle  removed  from  his  own 
private  interests.  I  wish  Pig  had  stayed  home,  so 
that  I  could  have  settled  things  before  getting  these 
notions.  And  yet,  Breen  isn't  always  this  way.  He 
feels  like  murder,  sometimes.  Well — not  so  often  as 
I  do ;  he's  on  that  side  of  the  fence — and  I'm  on  the 
other.  He's  a  gentleman,  and  I'm  not.  I  wonder 
if  I  can  be — for  her — I  wonder  if  I  can  forgive 
Pig—  » 

Then  he  went  to  sleep,  to  waken  at  seven  bells  at 
peace  with  himself  and  with  Pig — serenely  confident 
in  his  sleep-born  loftiness  of  purpose.  As  was  cus 
tomary  with  him,  fresh  from  the  navy,  he  was  first 
on  his  feet;  and  he  started  toward  the  galley  to  get 
the  breakfast  with  more  of  good  humor  in  his  face 
than  had  shown  there  lately;  but,  in  half  a  minute 
from  the  time  that  he  stepped  through  the  forecastle 
door,  his  new-found  philosophy  was  shocked  out  of 
him.  First  he  heard  his  name  called,  and  observed 
Breen,  his  hands  full  of  brass-rags,  running  down 
the  poop  steps.  The  watch  was  scattered  about, 
some  swabbing  paint  work,  others,  like  Breen,  scour 
ing  brass.  Each  face  was  turned  forward,  each  pair 
of  eyes  focused  on  a  point  abaft  the  forward  house. 
Dick  hastened  around  the  corner  just  as  Breen  called 
again. 

"  Take  a  hand  in  that,  Halpin." 

Forward  of  the  main  hatch,  fiat  on  his  back  and 
black  in  the  face,  was  Sawyer.  His  eyes  were  bulg- 


BARBARISM  177 

ing,  his  tongue  protruding,  the  lower  part  of  his 
body  wriggling  feebly.  Kneeling  on  his  chest  was 
the  cause  of  it  all — Pig  Jones.  His  left  fingers 
gripped  Sawyer's  throat,  and  his  right,  doubled  into 
a  fist  the  size  of  a  sledge-hammer,  was  doing  the 
work  of  a  hammer  on  Sawyer's  face. 

"  Think,  do  ye,"  said  Pig  between  blows,  "  yer 
goin'  to  run  me  'cause  ye've  got  my  berth.  I'll 
learn  ye." 

It  was  no  time  to  consider  ethics  or  philosophy, 
even  though  Dick  had  not  received  orders  from 
Breen.  Sawyer,  a  good  friend,  was  being  murdered 
by  a  giant  ignorant  of  his  strength,  innocent  of 
murderous  intent,  perhaps — bent  only  upon  "  learn 
ing  "  his  victim.  Dick's  boot,  impacting  on  Pig's 
jaw,  stopped  the  tutelage.  It  was  a  kick  that  would 
have  broken  an  ordinary  jaw,  but  Pig's  was  not  an 
ordinary  jaw,  and  it  held  together;  yet  he  was  driven 
off  from  Sawyer's  chest  by  the  force  of  the  kick,  and 
he  scrambled  to  his  feet  six  feet  away. 

"  Defend  yourself,  Halpin,"  called  Breen,  and 
Dick,  watching  Pig  closely,  observed,  out  of  the 
corner  of  his  eye,  Sawyer  rising  weakly  to  his  feet, 
with  Breen  and  others  around  him. 

"  You — you — you — kick  me,"  spluttered  Pig. 
"You — Halpin,  hey?  I  knew  ye." 

"Right,"  said  Dick,  calmly;  "Redhead  Halpin. 
You  got  only  one  back,  Pig  Jones.  There  are  more 
kicks  coming  to  you."  Then  he  dodged  the  bull-like 
rush  of  the  giant  and  struck  him  lightly  in  the  ribs 
as  he  passed. 

There  is  no  need  to  describe  in  technical  detail  the 
fight  that  followed — the  fiercest  battle  with  fists  that 
Dick  had  ever  engaged  in.  It  raged  and  whirled 
from  the  main  hatch  to  the  break  of  the  poop,  for- 


178  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

ward  again,  then  aft.  Pig  bellowed  and  threatened 
insanely,  expending  his  strength  in  futile  blows  and 
rushes.  Dick  was  merely  himself  again — not  the  self 
which  had  formulated  plans  of  inward  discipline  and 
forgiven  Pig,  but  the  self  which  remembered  the  per 
secutions  of  Pig  as  man  and  boy.  He  was  a  paleolithic 
reversion  plus  the  education  of  the  modern  seaman 
apprentice.  Fired  by  an  ecstasy  of  pride  and  cour 
age,  he  would  not  now  have  exchanged  his  character 
istics  for  those  of  Breen — not  even  for  the  power  to 
win  the  girl  that  he  loved.  He  fought  with  his  hands, 
and  he  fought  to  win,  but  in  his  greatest  intensity  of 
feeling  he  saw  no  red. 

He  noticed,  as  he  struck  and  feinted,  dodged  and 
whirled,  that  men  followed  them,  but  avoided  con 
tact,  even  though  some  held  handspikes  poised  aloft. 
Once  he  heard  a  clarion  voice  over  their  exclama 
tions  : 

"  Let  them  alone,  Mr.  Thorpe.  Stand  back  there, 
Mr.  Sawyer.  He's  doing  well.  Let  'em  have  it  out." 

And  he  fought  on,  caring  little  for  the  sympathy 
in  the  voice  or  for  the  poised  handspikes,  until, 
breathing  hard,  and  dizzy  with  the  shock  of  interrup 
tion,  he  found  himself  held  tightly  by  Sawyer  and 
the  captain,  and  looking  down  at  his  quivering,  un 
conscious  antagonist. 

"'That'll  do,  young  man,"  said  the  captain. 
*(  You've  licked  him  fair.  Don't  spoil  it." 

"  Come  forrard,  Billson,"  said  Sawyer.  "  Get  yer 
breakfast."  The  captain  released  his  arm,  and 
Sawyer  led  him  away. 

"  Ye  came  just  in  time  to  save  my  wind,  Billson," 
he  said,  "  and  I'll  not  forget  it.  I  didn't  think  you 
could  do  him,  and  I  was  ready  with  a  club.  Glad 
now,  on  your  account,  I  didn't  use  it,  but  sorry  on 


BARBARISM  179 

mine.  Why,  the  brute  struck  me  from  behind  just 
'cause  I'd  objected,  five  minutes  before,  to  his  spat 
tering  slops  on  the  deck." 

"  My  name's  Halpin,  Mr.  Sawyer,"  panted  Dick. 
"  That  fellow's  an  old  school-time  enemy,  and  I 
suppressed  my  name  and  identity  only  to  avoid  this. 
Now  that  it's  over,  it  doesn't  matter — and  say,  the 
skipper  s^med  to  be  on  my  side.  Can't  we  convince 
him  about '  Mr.  Breen  ?  " 

"  Not  on  your  life,"  said  Sawyer,  warningly. 
"  Don't  think  of  it.  Too  much  has  happened.  And 
I'll  tell  you  somethin'.  The  skipper's  suspectin'.  I 
heard  him  an'  the  mate  only  yesterday  talkin'  about 
your  friend  Breen.  You  see  he  can't,  in  the  nature 
o'  things,  keep  himself  back  altogether.  The  sailor 
sticks  out  of  him,  an'  the  skipper's  catchin'  on.  Now, 
that's  bad  for  him  in  this  kind  of  a  ship.  An'  only 
this  mornin'  the  old  man  asked  me  what  I  thought 
about  him — whether  I  thought  he  was  anythin'  more 
than  what  he  made  out,  and  I  said  that  as  far  as  I 
could  see  he  was  the  most  useless,  good-for-nothin' 
soger  that  ever  signed  able  seaman.  But  it  didn't  go 
— I  could  see  that.  Give  him  a  pointer  to  watch  out. 
So  long,  now.  I've  talked  enough  wi'  you." 


CHAPTER  XXXIX 

BEFORE  Dick  reached  the  forecastle,  whither  his 
watch  had  preceded  him,  he  heard  loud  and 
violent  language  from  the  captain,  and  turned  to 
look  aft.  Pig  was  sitting  up  on  the  hatch,  but  was 
receiving  no  attention  from  any  one.  It  was  Breen 
who  was  being  rebuked.  He  had  climbed  the  poop 
steps  and  had  begun  to  rub  the  brass  plate  on  the 


180  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

monkey-rail,  and  over  him  stood  Captain  Bilker, 
wiping  his  hands  and  coat  sleeve  with  a  handkerchief. 
As  Breen  seemed  in  no  present  danger  of  assault,  and 
as  there  was  not  much  time  left  for  breakfast,  Dick 
entered  the  forecastle,  concluding  that  Breen,  in  his 
hurry  to  relieve  Sawyer's  predicament,  had  left  the 
brass  smeared  with  oil  and  bath  brick,  and  that  Cap 
tain  Bilker  had  rubbed  against  it.  This  proved  to 
be  the  case.  When  Dick  came  out  at  f  «ght  bells, 
Breen  was  stowing  his  box  of  oils  and  rags  in  its 
place  under  the  topgallant  forecastle,  and  Mr. 
Thorpe,  who  had  come  forward  to  set  the  men  at 
work  for  the  watch,  was  further  berating  him. 

"  You  get  your  breakfast,  and  at  one  bell  you  turn 
to — d'ye  hear?  And  next  time  you  leave  any  oil 
around  loose,  you'll  lick  it  up." 

Then  he  detailed  the  port  watch  to  various  tasks 
about  the  rigging,  Dick's  being  the  squaring  of  rat 
lines  on  the  weather  mizzen's  shrouds. 

"  And  take  a  piece  o'  twine  with  you,"  said  the 
officer,  "  and  go  up  first  thing  and  overhaul  and  stop 
the  royal  and  to'gallant  buntlines." 

"  Aye,  aye,  sir,"  answered  Dick,  and  headed  for 
the  "  bosun's-locker." 

There  being  no  boys  or  ordinary  seamen  in  the 
crew,  this  lofty  work  was  given  to  Dick  and  other 
young  and  active  men,  while  scouring  brass,  swab 
bing,  scrubbing,  sweeping,  and  all  unseamanly  work 
usually  done  by  boys  was  given  to  Breen  and  others 
as  useless  as  he  pretended  to  be.  Musing  on  the  in 
justice  of  keeping  Breen  up  in  the  forenoon  watch 
for  an  act  which  indirectly  saved  the  life  of  an  of 
ficer,  Dick  secured  the  twine,  with  the  marline-spike 
and  marline  for  the  ratlines,  and  went  aft.  On  the 
way,  he  met  Pig  stumbling  slowly  forward  to  his 


BARBARISM  181 

galley.  His  eyes  were  closed  and  blackened ;  his  face 
was  marked  and  bruised.  He  was  a  ludicrous  and 
pathetic  picture  of  misery,  and  Dick  was  sorry  for 
him.  Mr.  Thorpe  was  out  of  sight,  and  the  captain 
had  gone  below.  He  stopped  before  him. 

"  Pig,"  he  said,  "  I  didn't  mean  tc  do  so  much. 
I'd  made  my  mind  up  to  drop  all  grudge  and  call 
the  whole  thing  square,  but  you  forced  me  to  it. 
Will  you  shake  hands  and  start  fresh  ?  "  Dick  ex 
tended  his  hand ;  but  Pig,  lifting  his  chin  to  see  easier 
through  his  swollen  eyelids,  tersely  consigned  him 
to  the  lower  regions,  and  passed  on. 

"  All  right,"  said  Dick,  and  added  to  himself  as 
he  went  aft,  "  Well,  I  feel  better  for  having  offered." 

On  the  mizzen  royal  yard  he  saw  a  sail  on  the 
southwestern  horizon,  squarely  on  the  starboard 
beam ;  for  the  southeast  trade  having  failed,  the  ship 
was  now  headed  away  for  the  Cape  with  a  mild 
quartering  wind.  Looking  down,  he  beheld  the  cap 
tain  pacing  the  poop  and  hailed :  "  Sail,  oh !  Broad 
on  the  starboard  beam.  Seems  to  be  steering  parallel 
with  us,  sir." 

"  All  right — all  right,"  answered  the  captain, 
reaching  for  his  binoculars ;  then  he  looked  aloft  and 
called  out :  "  Why  in  thunder  don't  ye  put  it  to  music 
and  sing  it?  Don't  have  so  much  to  say  up  there." 

Dick  was  long  past  being  hurt  by  such  criticism. 
He  finished  stopping  the  buntlines  and  came  down, 
noticing,  as  he  passed  the  topmast-head,  that  the 
seizing  of  the  monkey,  or  signal-gaff,  lift  was  chafed 
through,  and  that  only  a  couple  of  turns  held  the 
weight  of  the  gaff.  Obviously  this  was  a  matter  to 
be  reported  at  once ;  but  not  caring  to  hail  the  deck 
again,  he  descended  to  the  eyes  of  the  lower  rigging, 
where  his  work  on  the  ratlines  would  begin,  and  called 


182  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

i 

easily  to  Mr.  Thorpe,  who  was  ascending  the  poop 

steps : 

"  Seizing  of  the  monkey-gaff  lift  is  all  gone,  sir," 
he  said.  "  Shall  I  go  up  and  fix  it  ?  " 

But  Captain  Bilker,  not  seeing  the  mate,  and  sup 
posing  that  Dick  was  again  addressing  him,  turned 
fiercely  around  and  yelled  angrily : 

"  Don't  you  be  so  d — d  busy  up  there  wi'  your 
comments  and  your  suggestions  to  me.  I  know 
my  business  without  your  help.  You  'tend  to 
your'n." 

"  Go  on  wi'  those  ratlines,"  commanded  the  mate, 
consistently  deferring  to  the  captain's  mood,  "  and 
shut  up." 

"  Aye,  aye,  sir,"  answered  Dick,  respectfully ; 
then  he  went  to  work. 

No  man  can  with  surety  trace  to  a  prompting 
emotion  the  moods  and  whims  of  an  autocrat ;  but 
Dick,  watching  the  surly-faced  skipper  stamping 
back  and  forth  between  the  binnacle  and  the  rail, 
occasionally  snarling  at  the  man  at  the  wheel,  occa 
sionally  peering  through  the  binoculars,  shrewdly 
guessed  that  the  disturbance  of  bile  came  of  his  being 
compelled  to  wash  his  hands  twice  that  morning  and 
to  give  his  coat  to  the  steward  for  cleaning.  In  this 
guess  he  was  confirmed  when,  at  one  bell,  Breen  ap 
peared  on  deck. 

"  Mr.  Thorpe,"  yelled  the  captain  as  he  spied  him, 
"  set  that  infernal  insect  to  work  on  this  brass  work 
an'  get  it  done.  Them  stanchions  there.  Mebbe 
he'll  know  how  to  scour  brass  work  properly  'fore  I'm 
through  with  him." 

The  brass  work  indicated  was  a  set  of  stanchions, 
or  braces,  at  the  ends  of  the  poop  and  house  rails, 
which  so  far  in  the  voyage  had  not  been  cleaned, 


BARBARISM  183 

and  had  taken  on  a  rusty  green  and  blue  color.  Breen 
secured  his  box  of  rags  and  went  to  work. 

"  You  gentleman's  gentleman,"  sneered  the  irate 
captain  as  he  hovered  over  him.  "  You  navy  officer, 
you,  I'll  1'arn  you  somethin'  1  " 

Breen  answered  not,  but  scoured  industriously; 
and  Dick,  above  them  in  the  rigging,  speculated  on 
the  chances  if  he  should  let  fly  his  marline-spike 
at  Captain  Bilker's  head. 

So  the  forenoon  watch  passed,  the  sail  to  star 
board  drawing  closer,  and  the  captain  becoming 
more  and  more  irritable,  until,  at  about  five  bells, 
the  other  ship  ran  up  an  ensign.  The  captain  studied 
it  through  the  glasses. 

"  Nothin'  but  a  d — d  Nova  Scotia  rat  trap,"  he 
remarked ;  "  an'  I  thought  it  was  an  American  ship." 

It  was  the  first  ship  that  had  come  within  signal 
distance  since  they  had  sailed,  and  in  spite  of  his 
disappointment  Captain  Bilker  was  naturally  anxious 
to  communicate.  He  looked  around  the  deck.  The 
whole  watch  was  aloft  with  the  exception  of  Breen. 

"  Here,  you,"  he  called,  "  you  gentleman's  man. 
Can  you  read  letters  stenciled  on  little  flags?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,"  answered  Breen,  standing  erect  with 
the  peculiar  set  look  which  had  come  to  his  face 
lately. 

"  Put  that  gear  away,  an'  clean  yer  hands  an' 
come  aft  here  an'  help  me  signalize  that  Bluenoser. 
Bear  a  hand,  now." 

In  five  minutes  Breen  was  with  him. 

"  Run  up  this  ensign  on  them  signal  halyards 
there,"  commanded  the  captain,  tossing  the  Stars 
and  Stripes  to  the  top  of  the  cabin,  where  he  had 
already  piled  the  nineteen  small  flags  of  the  Inter 
national  Signal  Code.  Then  he  followed  with  his 


184j  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

signal  books  and  glasses,  taking  a  position  forward 
of  the  mizzenmast.  Breen  hoisted  the  ensign  to  the 
monkey-gaff,  which,  as  the  flag  was  small  and  the 
wind  light,  held  up  under  the  strain. 

"  Code  pennant,"  muttered  the  captain,  as  the 
stranger's  ensign  came  down  and  a  small  triangular 
flag  went  up.  "  Answer  that,"  he  said  to  Breen, 
kicking  a  small  flag  toward  him.  "  Send  it  up  on 
t'other  part  o'  the  halyards."  Breen  obliged  him. 

"  Now  get  our  number  hooked  together,"  said  the 
captain,  naming  four  letters.  "  They're  stamped  on 
the  canvas  edge.  See  them?  J.  on  top,  then  the 
rest." 

He  opened  the  code  book  to  interpret  the  four 
flags  now  flying  from  the  stranger's  gaff,  and  Breen 
made  up  the  ship's  number. 

"  Annie  M.  Sheldon,  o'  Halifax,"  muttered  the 
skipper.  Then  he  verified  Breen's  arrangement  of 
the  flags  before  ordering  them  hoisted. 

"  You  do  seem  to  know  somethin',  after  all,"  he 
said  sharply. 

••  More  than  you  do,"  muttered  Dick  in  the  rig 
ging,  a  little  fearful  that  Breen,  unaware  of  the 
captain's  lately  aroused  suspicion,  would  show  too 
great  a  proficiency  at  signaling;  but  he  could  not 
warn  him  now. 

The  number  went  aloft,  and  Captain  Bilker  jotted 
down  on  an  envelope  the  interpretations  of  three  sig 
nals  which  followed  in  rapid  succession  from  the 
other. 

"  Six  days  out  o'  Montevideo  for  Cape  Town,"  he 
read.  Then  he  directed  the  hoisting  of  three  sets  of 
flags  which  told  the  other  ship  that  they  were 
fifty-seven  days  out  of  New  York  bound  to  Hong 
Kong. 


BARBARISM  185 

"  Now  that's  over,"  said  Captain  Bilker,  "  we'll 
ask  for  news.  Run  up  B.  W.  F." 

Breen  quickly  toggled  these  flags  together  and 
hoisted  them,  watched  closely  by  the  captain. 

Four  flags  answered  from  the  other,  and  Captain 
Bilker,  observing  through  the  glasses,  called  out: 
"  C.  K.  V.  R.  What  the  deuce  is  he  drivin'  at?  " 

He  studied  his  book.  "  Battle,'*  he  announced. 
"  Must  be  spellin'  somethin'  out.  Run  up  the  an- 
swerin'  pennant." 

Breen  picked  it  up  readily.  It  was  the  same  small 
flag  which  he  had  hoisted  first,  and  had  two  uses, 
one  to  indicate  the  code  used,  the  other  to  signify 
that  a  signal  is  understood. 

"  How  d'you  know  that  was  the  answerin'  pen 
nant? "  yelled  the  captain  in  his  ear.  "Hey?  Tell 
me.  How  d'you  know  so  much  'bout  these  flags  ?  " 

"  You  told  me  to  hoist  it,  sir,"  answered  Breen, 
flushing  slightly,  yet  ready  with  an  explanation.  "  I 
was  valet  to  a  yacht  owner  once,  sir,  and  I've  seen 
these  flags  before." 

The  captain  glared  at  him  a  moment,  then  said 
with  a  sniff :  "  I  b'lieve  yer  a-lyin'.  Don't  you  try 
an'  fool  me.  Up  wi'  that  pennant.  What  the  h — 1 
are  ye  gapin'  at?  " 

Three  other  flags  were  now  flying  from  the  Nova 
Scotiaman,  and  the  captain  read:  C.  L.  J.  Then  he 
turned  to  his  book. 

"  Ship,"  he  said.  "  What  on  earth  does  he  mean? 
Answer." 

Breen,  who  had  lowered  the  pennant,  again  ran 
it  up.  He  had  not  unhooked  it  from  the  halyards, 
and  the  captain  noticed  it. 

"  He's  a  gentleman's  man,  and  a  yacht-owner's 
valet,"  muttered  the  captain,  as  he  -studied  another 


186  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

signal  from  the  stranger.  "  I  wonder  if  he  knows 
what  B.  Q.  K.  J.  means?  "  Glancing  suspiciously 
at  Breen's  fixed  face,  he  consulted  the  book. 

"  Geographical  signal,"  he  said,  turning  the 
leaves.  "  Maine — battle-ship  Maine — that's  what 
he's  saying.  What  next?  " 

He  read  another  signal,  then  another,  and  another, 
each  following  in  rapid  succession,  jotting  down  the 
interpretations  as  he  read  them  in  the  book.  Then 
he  read  aloud :  "  Battle-ship  Maine — destroyed — 
Havana — February  15.  Since  we  sailed!  "  he  added., 
excitedly.  "  Answer  that,  and  stand  by." 

He  turned  the  leaves,  studied  a  page,  and  said, 
«  Run  up  C.  G.  M." 

"  C.  G.  M.,  sir?  "  answered  Breen,  fumbling  the 
flags  as  excitedly  as  Captain  Bilker  fumbled  the 
leaves  of  the  book.  "  Did  you  say,  C.  G.  M.,  sir,  or 
C.  G.  N.?" 

"  What'd  I  tell  you,"  yelled  the  captain,  reopen 
ing  the  book.  "  Keep  yer  ears  open.  C.  G.  N.  That 
asks  if  there's  any  chance  o'  war.  Now  up  wi'  it, 
now  that  ye  know  all  'bout  it." 

Breen,  with  sparkling  eyes,  changed  the  signal, 
and  Dick  overhead  mingled  wonder  as  to  the  fate 
of  his  old  ship  and  shipmates  with  appreciation  of 
Breen's  ability  to  take  care  of  himself. 

But  the  signal  did  not  leave  the  deck.  The  ex 
cited  skipper,  to  hurry  matters,  had  bent  the  end 
of  the  halyards  to  the  loop  of  the  upper  flag  while 
Breen  changed  the  lower.  He  made  a  slippery  hitch, 
and  as  Breen  hauled  on  the  other  part  the  flags 
dropped  and  the  end  went  aloft. 

"  Ketch  it ! "  shouted  the  captain  to  Dick. 
"  Ketch  that  end  'fore  it  unreeves." 

It  was  out  of  Dick's  reach,  but  he  danced  up  the 


BARBARISM  187 

rigging1  after  it.  To  no  avail,  however;  the  higher 
it  went,  the  lighter  it  got,  and  the  halyards  whizzed 
through  the  sheave  on  the  gaff  and  settled  in  a  tangle 
on  the  house  and  deck.  Captain  Bilker's  rage  was 
akin  to  insanity. 

"  Get  up  there,"  he  screamed  to  Breen.  "  Take 
that  end  aloft  an'  reeve  it  off,  you  infernal  monkey. 
Don't  wait  to  say  yer  prayers.  Up  wi'  you !  " 

Breen  answered  quietly,  took  the  end  and  mounted 
the  weather  rigging,  meeting  Dick,  who  had  come 
down  to  his  work. 

"  Don't  get  on  that  gaff  till  you  seize  off  the  lift," 
said  Dick,  softly.  "  It's  chafed  through,  and  he 
knows  it.  And  he's  suspicious  of  you.  Just  learned 
it.  Here's  a  piece  of  marline." 

"  You  say  he  knows  it?  " 

"  Reported  it  myself  this  morning." 

"All  right." 

Breen  took  the  length  of  marline  and  went  aloft, 
while  Captain  Bilker  improved  the  delay  by  walking 
back  and  forth  and  glaring  unspeakable  things  at 
Dick.  He  could  not  but  have  understood  the  mean 
ing  of  the  short  talk  and  the  transfer  of  marline,  yet 
when  Breen,  having  reached  the  monkey-gaff  at  the 
topmast  cross-tree,  instead  of  climbing  out  on  the 
smooth  pole,  made  fast  the  end  of  halyards  and 
climbed  to  the  lift  above  at  the  cap,  he  broke  forth 
into  a  tirade  of  profanity. 

"  Get  out  an'  reeve  off  them  halyards,"  he  roared 
between  oaths.  "  D'ye  hear,  up  there,  you  white- 
livered  whelp?  What's  the  matter  wi'  ye?  " 

To  which  Breen,  busy  at  the  seizing,  made  no 
response.  He  finished,  descended  to  the  gaff,  climbed 
out  and  rove  the  halyards,  and  overhauled  the  end 
to  the  deck.  Captain  Bilker  caught  it,  and,  hitching 


188  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

it  to  the  flags,  hoisted  the  signal,  while  Breen  de 
scended.  His  face  was  very  pale  as  he  passed  Dick 
in  the  rigging,  and  he  said: 

"  That  lift  wouldn't  have  held  the  weight  of  a 
poodle  dog.  He  was  willing  I  should  fall." 

As  Breen  reached  the  deck  the  captain  was  jotting 
down  a  reading  of  a  new  signal,  obviously  too  en 
grossed  now  to  punish  Breen.  "  Up  wi'  the  answerin' 
pennant,"  he  said,  and  watched  the  signals  through 
the  glasses.  Then  he  seized  the  book  and  turned 
the  leaves. 

"  America,"  he  muttered.  "  War  expected  between 
America  and — what  next?  " 

Again  he  peered  through  the  glasses. 

"  Up  wi'  that  pennant  again,"  he  said,  over  his 
shoulder,  and  Breen,  who  had  abstracted  an  iron 
belaying-pin  from  the  fife-rail,  tucked  it  into 
his  belt  and  obeyed.  The  captain  consulted  the 
book. 

"D.  F.  W.,"  he  muttered.  "What  is  it?  Span 
ish  !  War  expected  between  America  and  Spain,"  he 
declared,  solemnly,  as  he  looked  up.  "  Mr.  Thorpe," 
he  called  to  the  mate,  now  on  the  forecastle  deck, 
"come!—" 

"  Yes,  you  murdering  devil,"  interrupted  Breen, 
with  the  belaying-pin  over  his  shoulder.  His  face 
was  still  white,  but  his  words  came  forth  with  a  busi 
ness-like  distinctness  quite  at  variance  with  the  gentle 
speech  of  the  gentleman's  man.  "  And  in  the  name 
of  the  United  States  government  I  take  charge  of 
this  ship.  Do  you  surrender,  quietly,  and  instantly, 
or  shall  I  kill  you  where  you  stand?  " 

"  Wha — what?  What  you  say?"  stammered  the 
captain,  backing  away. 

"  I  am  a  government  officer,"  said  Breen,  follow- 


BARBARISM  189 

ing,  his  iron  club  high  over  his  head.  "  Do  you  give 
me  charge  of  this  ship?  " 

"  No,  by  heaven  ?     I'll  see  you  and  the  gov — " 

The  heavy  iron  belaying-pin  came  down,  and  the 
captain  fell  like  a  sack  of  meal. 

"  Down  from  aloft,  Halpin,"  called  Breen,  but 
Dick  was  already  stepping  out  of  the  rigging.  "  The 
game  is  up.  Did  you  hear?  The  country's  expect 
ing  war.  Don't  let  the  mate  into  the  cabin.  Kill  him 
if  necessary." 

"  Very  good,  sir,"  answered  Dick,  securing  another 
iron  club  similar  to  Breen's.  The  ensign  descended 
the  after  companion,  while  Dick  vaulted  over  the 
monkey-rail  and  sprang  off  the  poop  into  the  path 
of  Mr.  Thorpe,  hurrying  aft  in  response  to  the  cap 
tain's  call. 

How  easy  it  was — after  the  first  blow  was  struck, 
Dick  faced  the  terrible  first  mate  with  a  smile  on 
his  face  and  joy  in  his  heart. 

"  Stop  where  you  are,"  he  said,  calmly.  "  Ensign 
Breen,  of  the  United  States  navy,  has  confiscated 
this  ship  and  orders  me  to  kill  you  if  you  make 
trouble.  Understand?  " 

"Going  to  kill  me,  are  you?  Why?  What  have 
I  done  that  I'm  to  be  killed  ?  "  Mr.  Thorpe  backed 
away,  and  Dick  followed.  There  was  no  fear  in  the 
face  or  the  voice  of  the  mate,  even  thougfe  he  had 
seen  the  young  man  before  him  thrash  the  big  Pig 
Jones  that  morning.  But  with  his  arm  in  a  sling 
he  was  not  at  present  fighting  with  fists  or  against 
them ;  neither  was  he  opposing  iron  belaying-pins. 
He  was  simply  the  signed  first  officer  of  this  ship, 
whose  life  was  threatened,  and  he  took  the  right  and 
proper  course  of  action.  With  a  sudden  side  spring 
he  drew  a  revolver  and  fired  left-handed  at  Dick; 


190  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

but  he  missed,  and  proved  that  his  excellent  marks 
manship  with  the  marline-spike  was  merely  accidental. 
Dick  rushed  toward  him,  and  the  officer  fired  again  as 
he  retreated.  Dick  followed  on,  in  a  frenzy  borne  of 
his  danger,  risking  death  because  he  loved  life,  seek 
ing  only  to  get  at  this  man  who  was  trying  to  kill 
him.  Around  the  booby  hatch  they  maneuvered — 
around  the  capstan,  back  to  the  poop  steps,  and  for 
ward  again  until,  at  the  main  fife-rail,  as  the  mate 
paused  to  fire  his  fifth  shot,  a  report  rang  out  from 
the  poop,  and  he  whirled  around  in  his  tracks  with 
arms  extended,  reeled,  fell,  and  lay  quiet  on  the  deck. 
Dick  turned,  and  saw  the  ensign  lowering  a  smoking 
rifle  from  his  shoulder. 

"  Down  from  aloft,  everybody,"  sang  out  Breen. 
"  Halpin,  come  here ! "  Dick  approached  and  re 
ceived  a  revolver  handed  down  to  him.  "  Call  the 
second  mate — call  the  watch,  forward  there ! "  he 
added  in  a  voice  which  the  men  scrambling  down 
from  the  rigging  had  not  heard  before. 

Sawyer  appeared;  the  firing  had  awakened  him. 
He  rubbed  his  eyes  as  he  looked  at  the  quiet  form  on 
the  deck  amidships;  then  he  looked  at  Dick,  care 
lessly  holding  his  pistol  muzzle  down,  and  at  Breen 
above  on  the  house. 

"  Sawyer,"  said  Breen,  "  the  United  States  ex 
pects  war  with  Spain,  and  I've  taken  charge  of  this 
ship  as  a  naval  officer.  I  think  I've  killed  the  mate 
and  I  think  I've  killed  the  skipper.  Shall  I  kill  you, 
too,  or  will  you  take  orders  from  me?  " 

"  Don't  kill  me,  sir,"  answered  Sawyer,  with  a 
deprecatory  gesture,  while  the  slightest  trace  of  a 
smile  came  to  his  face.  "  I  submit  to  a  show  of  force. 
I'll  take  orders  from  anybody  with  a  gun.  Just  tell 
me  what  I'm  to  do,  sir." 


BARBARISM  191 

"  Get  all  hands  aft  here  at  once." 

"  Very   good,   sir." 

The  speech  which  Breen  made  to  the  men  when 
they  appeared  before  him  was  short,  sharp,  and 
expressive.  In  it  he  stated  his  position  with  regard 
to  the  government  and  the  law.  He  granted  permis 
sion  for  any  and  all  of  them  to  disbelieve  him  before 
his  future  handling  of  the  ship  and  themselves  con 
vinced  them  of  the  truth  of  his  words,  but  promised 
instant  death  to  the  first  man  who  should  act  on  his 
disbelief.  To  which  the  men,  with  wonder  and  shock 
in  their  faces,  made  no  response.  They  shuffled  their 
feet  uneasily,  looking  at  each  other,  at  the  com 
plaisant  second  mate,  at  the  stern-faced  Dick,  and  at 
the  sterner-faced  young  man  on  the  house  who  had 
won  their  regard  by  his  gentleness,  politeness,  and 
deference  to  their  superiority.  Eight  bells  at  the 
wheel  struck  while  Breen  waited  for  their  answer, 
and  with  an  impatient  gesture  he  said,  "  Mr.  Sawyer, 
send  two  men  up  here  to  lift  the  captain  down  to  the 
mizzen  hatch." 

"  Very  good,  sir,"  answered  Sawyer,  with  a  man- 
of-war's-man's  salute.  "  Wagner — Swanson,  bear  a 
hand  here.  Up  on  the  house  wi'  you  and  bring  the 
skipper  down." 

The  two  men  hesitated,  looking  at  each  other  and 
around  at  their  shipmates ;  then  they  looked  up  at 
Breen,  slowly  bringing  his  rifle  to  his  shoulder,  and 
started  for  the  steps.  Their  example  seemed  to  de 
cide  the  rest;  when  Sawyer  ordered  two  others  to 
carry  the  mate  to  the  hatch,  they  obeyed  readily. 

The  captain  was  carried  down  and  laid  beside  the 
mate ;  then  Breen  called  out ;  "  Strike  eight  bells. 
Dinner,  the  watch,"  and  the  men  moved  slowly  for 
ward.  Breen  had  mastered  them. 


192  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

CHAPTER  XL 

XT  EITHER  the  captain  nor  the  mate  was  dead, 
i.  il  While  Breen,  Dick,  and  Sawyer  examined  them 
on  the  hatch,  the  mate  quivered  convulsively,  rolled 
over  on  his  side,  and  relapsed  into  half  consciousness. 
Breen's  bullet  had  glanced  from  his  skull.  A  little 
later,  Captain  Bilker  arose  to  a  sitting  posture  and 
stared  at  them  with  sleepy  eyes  while  he  uttered  a 
sound  that  was  half  groan,  half  growl.  Breen 
breathed  a  deep  sigh  of  relief,  and  Dick,  with  his 
pistol  at  the  captain's  head,  could  yet  notice  that 
the  ensign  was  deadly  pale,  that  his  hand  trembled, 
tand  that  drops  of  perspiration  collected  as  fast  as 
he  brushed  them  away. 

"  I'm  glad — it's  better — I'm  glad,  now,"  he  said, 
brokenly,  "  that  I  didn't  kill  them.  They  both  de 
serve  it,  of  course,  but  they  ought  to  do  it  them 
selves.  Mr.  Sawyer,"  he  added,  "  get  leg  irons  out 
and  shackle  them  together  by  the  ankles,  left  to  right 
—right  to  left." 

Sawyer  disappeared  in  the  cabin,  and  Captain 
Bilker,  still  sitting  and  regarding  them  stupidly,  still 
covered  by  Dick's  pistol,  broke  forth  into  aimless, 
senseless  abuse.  He  could  not  quite  grasp  the  situa 
tion;  but  when  Sawyer  had  locked  his  right  ankle  to 
the  mate's  left,  and  his  left  to  the  mate's  right,  he 
was  sufficiently  awakened  to  ask  irrelevant  questions, 
by  which  time  Breen  was  sufficiently  composed  to 
answer  and  Mr.  Thorpe  conscious  enough  to  listen. 

"  What  you  doin',  anyhow — what  you  put  the 
darbies  on  us  for?  "  he  asked  with  a  snarl. 

"  We  ironed  you,"  answered  Breen,  incisively,  "  to 
keep  you  quiet — to  restrain  you  from  any  futile  and 


BARBARISM  193 

intemperate  action.  You  will  remain  in  irons  until 
released  by  the  order  of  the  nearest  consul." 

"  We  will,  hey?  D'ye  know  this  is  mutiny?  D'ye 
know  I'm  captain  o'  this  ship?  " 

"  I  know  that  you  were  captain ;  but  you  are  de 
prived  of  command  by  a  representative  of  the  United 
States  government.  I  am  a  naval  officer,  as  I  have 
unavailingly  told  you  before,  and  my  acts  will  be 
upheld  by  any  official  you  may  appeal  to.  Do  you 
understand  that  you,  and  your  ship,  and  your  own 
ers,  and  your  combined  value  to  the  commerce  of 
America,  are  of  small  importance  compared  with  the 
country's  need  of  her  officers  and  seamen  when  war 
threatens  ?  I  waive  all  consideration  of  your  attempt 
on  my  life  this  morning,  and  rest  my  case  on  the  fact 
that  you  were  restraining  me  from  my  duty — taking 
me  to  sea  when  I  am  needed  in  the  navy.  So,  as 
you  are  of  a  troublesome,  dissatisfied  disposition  you 
will  be  confined  in  irons  on  forecastle  rations  until  we 
quit  this  ship." 

"  How'll  you  quit — in  the  middle  o'  the  South  At 
lantic?  Why  didn't  you  make  it  clear — why  didn't 
you  prove  yourself,  if  you  belong  to  the  navy.  I 
didn't  know." 

"  Yes,  you  did,  you  scoundrel,"  said  Breen, 
angrily.  "  You  came  to  that  knowledge  this  morn 
ing,  when  I  failed  to  conceal  my  acquaintance  with 
signal  flags.  Instead  of  recognizing  my  claim,  you 
tried  to  murder  me.  You  sent  me  aloft  to  a  job 
which  would  have  killed  me  had  I  not  been  warned." 

"  And  I'm  d —  sorry,"  spluttered  the  captain  in  a 
burst  of  rage,  "  that  you  didn't  come  down  by  the 
run  and  break  yer  neck.  Take  these  irons  off  my 
legs,  and  I'll  land  you  at  the  nearest  port  and  be 
d — d  to  you." 


194  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

"  This  will  do,"  said  Breen,  coldly.  "  Stand  up, 
the  pair  of  you." 

The  mate  had  by  this  time  assumed  a  sitting  post 
ure,  but  was  hardly  in  condition  to  speak. 

"  Stand  up,"  repeated  Breen.  "  Catch  one  another 
by  the  shoulders,  and  stand  up,  or  we'll  lift  you  with 
ropes  around  your  necks.  Quickly !  " 

Breen's  earnestness  was  more  than  evident.  They 
looked  at  his  stern  countenance,  forward  to  the  ob 
servant  watch  on  deck  clustered  near  the  galley  door, 
and  into  each  other's  eyes.  Then  they  gripped  each 
other's  coat  sleeves  and  hove  themselves  erect. 

"  March,"  commanded  Breen,  "  to  the  poop  steps, 
climb  them,  and  make  your  way  to  the  lazarette 
hatch." 

The  captain  backing,  and  the  wakening  mate  fol 
lowing  unsteadily,  they  moved  in  this  reversed  lock- 
step  to  the  poop  stairs,  which  they  mounted  slowly 
and  painfully.  Then  they  passed  along  the  alley, 
cursing  their  victors  furiously  as  they  went,  and 
stumbled  around  before  the  amazed  helmsman  to  the 
lazarette  hatch.  Sawyer  was  ahead  of  them  and 
lifted  the  cover.  Breen  and  Dick  were  close  behind. 

"  Down  you  go,"  said  Breen.  "  Remember  that  I 
am  the  legitimate  commander  of  this  ship,  empowered 
by  law  to  enforce  my  orders  with  powder  and  shot." 

He  held  his  rifle  carelessly  in  line  with  their  heads, 
and  Dick  still  carried  the  revolver.  They  seated 
themselves  on  the  hatch  combing,  inserted  their  legs, 
and  floundered  down  to  the  flooring  below. 

"  You  will  be  ironed  by  the  legs  to  a  stanchion," 
said  Breen,  looking  down ;  "  but  your  hands  will  be 
left  free,  and  you  will  receive  medical  attention; 
you  will  be  closely  watched,  however,  and  any  overt 
act  of  resistance  or  insubordination  will  result  in 


BARBARISM  195 

your  death.  I  will  shoot  you  in  irons.  Mr.  Sawyer, 
make  them  fast  to  a  stanchion,  and  tell  the  steward 
to  nurse  their  hurts  and  feed  them  the  forecastle 
allowance." 

"  Very  good,  sir."  And  Sawyer  went  forward 
with  a  joyous  grin  on  his  face,  while  Breen  mounted 
the  house  and  went  to  the  mizzen-mast. 

"  Come  up  here,  Halpin,"  he  said. 

He  was  examining  the  Nova  Scotiaman  through 
the  glasses  when  Dick  reached  his  side. 

"  We'll  ask  a  few  more  questions,"  he  said.  "  We 
know  that  the  Maine  is  destroyed,  and  that  war  is 
expected — that  is  all."  Breen  consulted  the  code- 
book.  "  Lucky  I  remembered  what  C.  G.  N.  meant," 
he  added,  turning  the  leaves.  "  It's  a  stock  question 
in  all  navies.  The  skipper  would  have  signaled  the 
next  letters  above,  which  merely  make  an  irrelevant 
statement.  We  might  not  have  got  this  news.  Run  up 
C.  B.  T.,  and  ask  if  there  are  any  men-of-war  about." 

Dick  hoisted  this  signal,  and  the  other  ship  re 
sponded  with  a  series  which  Breen  interpreted  and 
jotted  down  on  the  captain's  envelope.  When 
finished,  he  read  to  Dick: 

"  Spanish  Temerario,  Montevideo — American  Buf 
falo,  purchased,  Rio  Janeiro — American  Oregon, 
sailed,  San  Francisco,  March  19,  Cuba." 

"  The  Oregon  sailed  March  19th,"  said  Breen  when 
he  had  done  some  multiplying  on  the  envelope.  "  She 
must  be  off  the  Horn,  now,  or  in  the  Straits.  She'll 
likely  coal  at  Punta  Arenas,  possibly  at  Montevideo, 
and  surely  at  Rio.  We'll  keep  away  from  Monte 
video  for  the  present — while  the  Temerario  is  around. 
Our  place  is  Rio.  With  fair  luck  we  can  make  Rio  in 
time  to  join  the  Oregon,  and  then — war.  Know  what 
it  means,  Halpin  ?  " 


196  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

"  Are  you  sure,  sir,  that  we'll  have  it?  " 

"  We've  got  to.     I  won't  have  it  otherwise. 

"  We'll  ask  more  news,"  said  Breen  at  length,  turn 
ing  the  leaves.  "  Hook  on  D.  H.  C.  L.  That  asks, 
'how  many  were  killed?'  Then  we'll  give  the 
Maine' 's  name." 

The  answer  to  these  signals  was  a  couple  of  hoists 
which  indicated  "  two  hundred  and  sixty." 

"  That'll  be  enough,"  said  Breen.  "  TAVO  hundred 
and  sixty — some  of  them  our  friends,  perhaps.  I 
knew  all  her  officers.  Oh,  there'll  be  war,  Dick.  Run 
up  the  ensign  and  dip  it.  Funny,  but  I  feel  better." 

The  steward  joined  them  as  Dick  hoisted  the  en 
sign. 

"  Where  will  you  eat,  sir?  "  he  asked,  respectfully. 

"At  the  cabin  table  as  master  of  this  ship,"  said 
Breen.  "  This  is  Mr.  Halpin,  first  mate.  Treat  him 
as  such.  Mr.  Sawyer  is  still  second  mate,  and  there 
will  be  no  change  in  his  position  for  the  present.  Call 
him  to  dinner  and  serve  him  at  once.  Then  prepare 
the  bath-tub  and  procure  from  the  slop  chest  two 
suits  of  clothing,  the  best  that  you  have, — shirts, 
underclothing,  socks,  shoes,  everything  complete." 

"  Yes,  sir — yes,  sir." 

The  steward  went  down,  most  certainly  impressed. 

At  one  bell,  before  the  port  watch  went  to  dinner, 
Breen  braced  the  ship  sharp  on  the  port  tack ;  and 
though  the  men,  when  they  began  the  work,  moved 
with  a  deliberation  that  was  a  sure  index  of  their 
doubt  and  dissatisfaction,  it  left  them  before  many 
of  Breen's  sharp,  clear-cut  orders  burst  over  their 
heads;  and  later  in  the  afternoon,  when  he  took 
sights  for  his  longitude  with  Captain  Bilker's  sextant, 
they  gave  evidence  of  being  as  fully  impressed  as  was 
the  steward. 


BARBARISM  197 

Le  roi  est  mort.  Vive  le  roil  Great  is  the  power 
of  promise  and  powder  and  shot ! 

Three  weeks  later,  with  the  Sugar  Loaf  bearing 
ahead  and  to  port,  Breen  took  his  eyes  from  a  spot 
on  the  southern  horizon  to  back  the  mainyards  and 
receive  a  Rio  Janeiro  pilot. 

"What's  the  news  from  the  United  States?"  he 
asked. 

"  War  declared  on  Spain  nine  days  ago.  Didn't 
you  know?  Havana's  blockaded,  and  we're  on  the 
lookout  here  for  the  Oregon  and  Marietta.  Seen  any 
thing  of  'em?" 

"  What  do  you  make  of  that?  "  answered  Breen, 
handing  him  the  binoculars,  and  pointing  to  the 
southward.  The  pilot  looked. 

"  Oregon,"  he  said,  shortly.  "  The  Marietta  is 
just  astern  of  her.  Just  my  luck.  I'd  ha'  taken  her 
in  if  you  hadn't  come  along." 

The  spot  grew  larger  and  took  on  form, — a  broad- 
beamed,  one-masted,  two-funneled  floating  fortress, — 
rushing  along  at  steam-yacht  speed,  with  the  pygmy 
consort  in  her  wake.  At  the  entrance  to  the  harbor* 
the  two  passed  the  Mary  Earl,  the  big  battle-ship 
ploughing  up  a  bow  wave  halfway  to  the  top  of  her 
ram  bow,  her  funnels  belching,  her  engines  humming 
— hundreds  of  white-clad  men  dotting  her  deck. 

"  Halpin,  we're  just  in  time,"  said  Breen,  with 
glistening  eyes.  "  We'll  report  to  her  captain  in 
stead  of  the  consul.  It  will  save  complications.  We'll 
go  north  in  the  Oregon." 

"And  the  ship?"  asked  Dick. 

"  Can  take  care  of  herself.  The  official  log  has  our 
confessions.  Let  Sawyer  report  to  the  consul." 

They  left  the  Mary  Earl  in  a  shore  boat,  Sawyer 
and  the  little  steward  waving  hands  at  the  gangway, 


198  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

the  crew  cheering  from  the  rail  and  rigging.  But 
there  was  one  discordant  note  in  the  godspeed.  Pig 
Jones,  rejuvenated  and  revengeful,  appeared  on  the 
top  of  the  forward  house  with  an  apronful  of  po 
tatoes,  which  he  threw  at  them  until  they  were  out 
of  range.  Then  they  heard  him  dare  the  remonstrat 
ing  Sawyer  to  fight. 

"  She  is  still  a  hellship,"  said  Breen. 


BOOK  IV 
CIVILIZATION 
CHAPTER  XLI 

IT  is  night  on  the  Santiago  blockade — a  hot  July 
night  conducive  to  profanity  and  excessive  liba 
tions  at  the  scuttle-butt;  a  night  when  men  breathe 
the  muggy  air  with  extra  muscular  effort,  and  care 
little  for  their  speech  or  personal  appearance ;  when 
officers  don  pajamas  and  maintain  dignity  with  white 
uniform  caps — when  seamen  strip  to  underclothing, 
and,  unspokenly,  consign  dignity  to  the  lower 
regions. 

There  are  three  lines  to  this  blockade:  an  outside 
semicircle  of  the  heavy  ships, — turreted  fighters, 
with  range  of  gun  fire  greater  than  the  radius;  an 
inner  line  of  torpedo  boats,  converted  yachts,  and 
swift  tugs, — messengers  and  despatch  bearers,  the 
light  cavalry  of  a  fleet ;  within  this  crescent,  a  row 
of  small  steam  launches, — lookouts, — well  supplied 
with  binoculars,  and  with  but  one  note  of  alarm  ex 
pected  and  hoped  of  them — the  signal  that  the  iin- 


CIVILIZATION  199 

prisoned  fleet  within  had  shown  signs  of  breaking 
bonds.  A  brilliant  pencil  of  light,  a  point  at  its 
seaward  end,  a  broad  refulgence  where  it  impinges 
on  the  rocky  shores  of  the  harbor  mouth,  indicates 
the  presence,  on  the  second  line,  of  the  search-light 
ship, — a  detailed  monster  of  the  outside  semicircle 
with  steam  sufficient  for  the  candle  power.  She  is 
relieved  every  four  hours,  and  the  change  is  the  only 
diversion  of  the  night  to  the  overstrained  nerves 
of  the  picket  crews. 

On  the  second  line,  with  bow  inshore  and  all  lights 
out  but  the  binnacle  lamp  in  the  conning-tower,  lay 
a  dun-colored  torpedo-boat ;  and  close  up  in  the  bow, 
sprawled  face  up  on  the  turtle-back,  with  feet  rest 
ing  on  the  low  hand-rail,  lay  Dick  Halpin.  He  was 
not  sleeping;  he  was  thinking.  Back  of  him  on  the 
turtle-back,  and  farther  back  on  the  main  deck,  lay 
his  shipmates,  in  all  postures  and  in  a  common  frame 
of  mind.  Spasmodically  and  earnestly  they  reviled 
the  night,  the  heat,  the  luck, — and  each  other.  They 
anathematized  the  war,  the  Spanish,  the  boat  and  her 
equipment, — everything  within  their  ken  on  that  hot 
night  came  under  the  ban  but  the  officer  who  com 
manded  and  the  admiral  who  had  condemned  them. 

Dick,  to  escape  the  ceaseless  grumbling,  which 
could  not  wholly  voice  his  own  discontent,  had  sought 
the  farthest  corner,  and  lay  in  this  attitude  most 
conducive  to  philosophy,  trying  to  solve  the  past  and 
probe  the  future.  He  was  the  avowed  friend  of  a 
man  whom  he  had  hated  intensely  a  few  months  be 
fore — a  man  who  had  admitted  hating  him  then,  and 
had  since  won  his  regard  in  spite  of  himself,  who  had 
sounded  his  praises  to  two  ships'  companies,  and 
had  secured  him  his  present  rating  of  signalman 
in  the  torpedo-boat  of  which  he  himself  had  been 


200  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

given  command.  Dick  had  been  called  aft  on  the 
quarter-deck  of  the  Oregon  and  introduced  by  the 
enthusiastic  Breen  as  "  Mr."  Halpin  to  a  group  of 
kindly-eyed  officers,  who,  from  the  captain  down, 
shook  his  hand,  and  complimented  him  upon  his  skill 
with  his  fists.  Dick  gathered  that  Breen  had  de 
scribed  his  terrible  fight  with  the  giant  Pig  Jones. 
These  men  were  gentlemen,  and  their  congratula 
tions  were  sincere;  yet  he  wondered  if  they  would 
have  complimented  one  of  themselves  as  highly,  if 
Breen  would  have  been  so  enthusiastic  if  the  feat  had 
been  his  own.  Later,  this  was  repeated  on  board  the 
flagship,  which  they  had  joined  at  Key  West,  and  he 
had  listened  to  kind  words  from  the  brave-faced  ad 
miral,  who  told  him  that  he  hoped  to  hear  further 
from  him  before  the  war  ended.  This  was  well — 
more  than  well ;  but  against  it  was  the  influence  of  his 
early  training.  He  possessed  courage,  surely,  which 
he  shared  with  bulldogs.  It  was  the  commonest  of 
human  attributes,  and  it  was  not  enough.  Intelli 
gence — education — breeding?  Possibly.  But  op 
portunity — the  accident  of  time,  place,  and  environ 
ment — was  necessary  to  bring  tangible  recognition 
and  reward  for  the  best  of  inherent  aptitudes,  and  it 
had  been  denied  him.  It  had  come  to  Breen,  but  not 
yet  to  him.  Would  the  war  bring  it,  as  the  admiral 
had  hoped?  He  had  been  relegated  to  a  torpedo- 
boat,  which  ran  errands  in  the  day  and  did  picket 
duty  at  night.  He  had  watched,  safely  out  of  range, 
three  bombardments  of  the  forts,  and  envied  men 
the  wild  joy  of  being  under  fire.  He  had  volunteered 
among  the  hundreds  who  had  responded  to  the  call 
for  men  to  take  the  Merrimac  in,  but  others  were 
chosen,  and  he  had  watched  them  go  by,  to  death — or 
opportunity. 


CIVILIZATION  201 

If  opportunity  should  come  to  him,  he  would  seize 
it ;  if  not,  he  would  be  of  age  in  a  couple  of  months ; 
his  time  in  the  navy  would  be  up,  and  there  would  be 
something  due  him  from  his  mother's  estate.  This 
he  would  collect  quickly  and  hurry  to  the  other  side 
of  the  continent,  where  Breen's  wedding  bells  could 
not  disturb  him.  Then  Mabel's  face  came  before 
him,  and  all  philosophy  left  him. 

CHAPTER  XLII 

"TTALPIN,"  came   a  low  voice  from   the  dark- 

A  JL  ness  amidships.  "  Halpin,"  it  sounded, 
nearer.  "  Pass  the  word,  there,  for  Halpin."  His 
name  was  repeated  by  others,  and  he  arose  to  his 
feet. 

"  The  old  man  wants  ye,"  said  a  man  old  enough 
to  be  Breen's  father. 

Dick  found  Breen  close  up  to  the  stern,  in  about 
the  same  attitude  which  he  himself  had  assumed 
forward, — flat  on  his  back,  with  his  head  pillowed 
on  the  bed  of  the  torpedo  tube. 

"Want  me,  sir?"  he  asked,  saluting  in  the  dark 
ness. 

"  Yes,  Dick.  Lie  down  here,  and  never  mind  the 
'sir.'  We're  aboard  the  hellship  for  a  time,  and 
there's  no  one  near.  I  want  to  talk  to  you." 

Dick  stretched  himself  beside  his  captain,  and 
Breen,  after  a  full  minute's  silence,  said  softly  and 
slowly : 

"I  got  letters  to-day.     Did  you?" 

"  No,"  answered  Dick.     "  No  one  writes  to  me." 

"  They  write  about  you,  however.  I  wrote  from 
'Jupiter  Inlet  to  Miss  Arthur,  explaining  where  I'd 
disappeared  to,  and  telling  about  you  and  something 


202  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

of  our  experience  together.  I  got  her  answer  to-day 
— been  chasing  me  all  around  the  fleet.  She  is  very 
glad  that  you  did  not  desert,  and  says  that  she  ex 
pects  to  see  you  coming  home  an  officer." 

"  An  officer ! "  gulped  Dick,  his  heart  beating 
painfully,  and  his  face  burning.  "  Did  she — really — 
speak  of  me?  An  officer!  But  that  means  an  *  officer 
and  a  gentleman.'  Shall  you  write  to  her  again?  " 

"  Of  course." 

"  Will  you  tell  her,  please,  that  I  am  grateful  for 
her  interest  in  me,  and  that  though  it  is  impossible 
for  me  under  the  law  to  come  home  an  officer,  I  may 
come  home  a  gentleman.  And  say  that  I  am  heartily 
ashamed  of  my  manner  and  language  in  the  bridge 
car,  and  thoroughly  sorry — and  that  I  hope  she  will 
pardon  and  forget  it." 

"  Right,  I  will,"  laughed  Breen.  "  What  did  you 
do?  Lay  her  out  for  looking  at  you  in  your  old 
ducks  and  coal  dust?  She  laid  me  out  for  it." 

"  Worse,"  growled  Dick,  disgustedly.  "  I  insulted 
her.  I'm  nothing  but  a  cad,  after  all." 

"  She  doesn't  waste  her  time  on  cads,  Dick,"  said 
Breen,  gently ;  "  but  what  kind  of  a  reputation  have 
you  up  there  in  that  town?  We've  had  our  names 
in  the  papers.  You  are  supposed  to  have  murdered 
me  that  night,  disposed  of  my  body,  and  escaped. 
Hence  our  disappearance." 

"  Oh,  I  know,"  said  Dick,  as  he  thought  of  the 
clipping  Bessie  had  sent  him.  "  My  reputation  will 
admit  of  anything ;  but  there  is  one  thing  cleared  up, 
which  I  have  learned  about  lately.  Did  you  know 
that  I  left  home  four  years  ago  a  proven  thief?  " 

"  Why,  no — I  heard  about  it ;  but  you  were  cleared 
at  the  time,  weren't  you?  " 

"  Yes,  but  I  didn't  know  it.     I  didn't  know  until 


CIVILIZATION  203 

lately.  All  these  years  I  thought  I  was  considered 
a  jailbird  at  home,  and  that's  what  made  me  so  ready 
to  lick  that  crowd.  Pig  Jones  told  me  at  the  wheel 
one  night  when  he  was  drunk  enough  to  talk  to  me.; 
but  I  didn't  speak  to  you  about  it  on  account — n 
He  hesitated. 

"  I  understand,  Dick.  Yes, — a  brother  officer. 
He's  out  there  now,  bullying  good  men.  An  officer 
and  a  gentleman.  No,  the  government  made  him 
an  officer,  but — the  most  unpopular  man  in  his  class, 
they  say.  I  heard  about  that  scrape  at  school  long 
before  I  -met  you — not  from  his  sister,  however — 
from  a  friend  of  hers.  You  certainly  acted  the  gen 
tleman,  Dick,  until,  of  course,  you  were  driven  to 
desperation.  But — I  wish  I  could  have  seen  that 
chase  over  the  desks."  Breen  finished  with  a  laugh, 

"  I  always  wanted  to  be  a  gentleman,"  said  Dick, 
gloomily ;  "  but  the  navy  toughens  a  man,  and 
knocks  it  out  of  him.  But  at  that  time,"  he  raised 
his  voice  slightly,  "  I'd  a  better  right  to  the  title 
than  he.  But  his  father  was  rich  and  put  him  into 
the  Academy,  while  I — " 

"Rich?"  queried  Breen;  "not  so  very  rich — not 
so  rich,  I  think,  as  Richard  Halpin,  seaman  gunner 
for  Uncle  Sam.  What  made  you  ship,  anyway,  with 
all  that  money  coming  to  you?" 

"Money?"  repeated  Dick.  "Yes,  there  was  a 
little  due  me  when  I  came  of  age." 

"  Four  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  dollars  are 
waiting  for  you,  up  in  that  little  town,  Miss  Arthur 
says.  The  lawyers  are  looking  for  you." 

"  What !  "  exclaimed  Dick,  sitting  up. 

"  That's  what  she  says.  Your  mother  left  you 
fifty  thousand,  and  your  uncle — you  know  he  is  dead, 
don't  you?  "  Dick  nodded  in  the  darkness. 


MASTERS  OF  MEN 

**  Your  uncle  died  intestate,  and  you  are  next  of 
Icin.  Four  hundred  thousand  more.  Whew ! — and 
I've  nothing  but  my  pay.  No  wonder  the  girls  like 
you,  Dick."  There  was  a  little  bitterness  in  the 
slight  laugh  with  which  Breen  concluded. 

"  But  why  didn't  I  know  this  ?  Why  did  no  one 
tell  me?" 

"  Couldn't  find  you.  No  one  knew  where  you  were. 
I  told  Miss  Arthur  on  the  day  you  cleaned  out  the 
town ;  and  I  suppose  you  were  shanghaied  before  the 
news  got  to  the  lawyer." 

"  Four  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  dollars,"  mut 
tered  Dick,  as  his  mind  flashed  back  to  his  boyish 
plans  for  study  and  advancement.  "  Why,  a  man 
could  be  a  gentleman  very  easily  with  all  that  money, 
wouldn't  he?" 

"  Yes,  some  kinds  of  a  gentleman — all  kinds,  if  he 
is  born  one.  But  the  best  society  in  the  land  will 
welcome  you,  Dick.  Cut  your  hair,  and  tune  up  a 
little  when  your  time's  out.  You're  all  right." 

"  But  it's  not  all — not  enough.  Do  you  know  that 
I'd  give  it  all  for  an  appointment  to  Annapolis?  " 

"  All  the  money  in  the  world  wouldn't  buy  the 
appointment  at  your  age.  You're  too  old,  and  only 
the  President  could  send  you  there.  There  may  be 
a  chance  in  this  mix  if  you  do  good  work  and  the 
admiral  recommends  you.  Why,  with  your  start  you 
could  rush  through  in  two  years." 

"  Then  give  me  what  chance  you  can,"  said  Dick, 
vehemently.  "  Give  me  risky  work — the  craziest  that 
comes  along.  I'll  do  it." 

Breen  did  not  answer.  He  stood  erect  and  ele 
vated  a  pair  of  binoculars.  "  Something  up,"  he 
remarked.  Dick  also  arose  to  his  feet,  and  a  man 
hurried  aft  with  the  information  that  the  search- 


CIVILIZATION  205 

light  was  shifting,  and  that  lights  were  moving  about 
at  the  harbor  mouth. 

"  I  see,"  answered  Breen,  the  glasses  still  to  his 
eyes.  "  Watch  the  flagship,  and  see  what  is  said. 
The  pickets  are  signaling." 

Colored  lights  were  showing  from  the  inside  line; 
the  beam  of  light  from  the  battle-ship  on  station  was 
wavering — reaching  to  the  right  and  left,  exposing 
in  its  vivid  glare  first  one  shore,  then  the  other.  But 
barring  two  or  three  twinkling  points  in  the  darkness 
without  the  glare,  nothing  could  be  seen,  even 
through  Breen's  binoculars. 

"  The  flagship  is  signaling,  sir,"  said  Dick,  strain 
ing  his  eyes  at  a  vertical  row  of  colored  lights  far  out 
to  sea.  "  I  didn't  get  the  first  of  it,  but  she  seems 
to  be  telling  the  search-light  ship  to  do  something — 
there  it  is,  sir — launch.  A  reconnoitering  job." 

"  Anything  for  us  yet?  " 

"  No,  sir." 

"  We'll  wait.     Watch  out." 

Dick  went  forward,  returning  with  a  pair  of 
glasses,  and,  as  was  his  duty,  kept  close  watch  for 
signals ;  but  nothing  showed.  The  minutes  went  by, 
while  the  twinkling  points  shoreward  went  out  in  the 
blackness,  and  the  wavering  search-light  settled  down 
to  its  steady  scrutiny  of  the  channel.  Presently  the 
humming  of  a  small  engine  sounded  in  the  distance, 
and  soon  after  a  small  gray  spot  on  the  water  took 
on  the  form  and  detail  of  a  steam  launch,  coming 
toward  them  from  seaward. 

"  Boat  ahoy !  "  called  Breen  softly  as  the  launch 
drew  near.  The  engine  stopped. 

"  Hello,"  answered  a  voice — which  Dick  recog 
nized.  "Is  that  you,  Mr.  Breen?" 

"Yes.    What's  up?" 


206  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

"  I'll  come  alongside." 

The  launch  came  quietly  up  to  the  quarter,  and 
George  Arthur  stepped  aboard. 

"  I'm  caught,"  he  said  to  Breen  as  they  shook 
hands.  "  Fact  is,  I'm  sent  in  to  find  out  what  they're 
doing — and  that's  all.  I'm  supposed  to  do  some 
signaling,  and,  hang  it,  I  haven't  had  time  to  learn 
the  code;  and  as  for  the  nightly  change,  why,  I  left 
it  aboard.  Can  you  give  it  to  me?  " 

"  I  can  do  better — give  you  my  signalman.  Take 
him  along  and  take  his  advice." 

"  Thanks — by  George,  yes ;  I'm  a  thousand  times 
obliged.  I've  got  to  go  in,  and  if  there's  anything 
up  I  must  flash  it  out  to  them.  Now  I  feel  better." 

"  Go  along,  Halpin,"  said  Breen,  tersely. 

"  Halpin  ?  "  queried  the  young  cadet.  "  Well — 
say,  now,  Mr.  Breen,  isn't  this  a  little — he's  a  pet  of 
yours,  I  know,  but — " 

"  You  have  applied  to  me  for  a  signalman,  and  I 
give  you  the  best  I  have,"  interrupted  Breen,  sternly. 
"  You  can  suit  yourself,  sir." 

"  Oh,  well,  all  right — all  right,  sir,"  answered  the 
other.  "  Send  him  aboard  when  you're  ready,  sir." 

He  strode  toward  the  rail  and  stepped  aboard  the 
launch.  "  Go  along,  Dick,"  said  Breen,  softly.  "  If 
he  gets  into  trouble,  get  him  out  of  it.  I'll  see  to 
the  credit." 

"  Thank  you.  Bully  for  you,"  was  Dick's  unsea- 
manly  answer  to  his  officer.  Then  he  jumped  into 
the  launch. 

"  Go  ahead,"  ordered  the  cadet ;  and  the  engine 
started.  "  I  am  told,"  he  said  sourly  to  Dick,  "  to 
take  your  advice.  If  I  need  it,  I'll  call  on  you." 

"  Very  good,  sir,"  returned  Dick,  quietly,  as  he 
seated  himself  beside  him. 


CIVILIZATION  207 

The  little  craft  shot  ahead  into  the  blackness  be 
neath  and  without  that  brilliant  shaft  from  the 
search-light.  The  young  officer  had  the  wheel. 
There  were  two  other  men  in  the  cockpit,  silently 
crouching  with  elbows  on  their  knees,  and  aft 
in  the  other  cockpit  a  machinist  in  charge  of  the 
engine. 

Nothing  more  was  said;  the  launch  traversed  the 
short  two  miles  to  the  harbor  mouth,  passing  the 
inner  picket  line  unseen  and  unhailed,  Dick  ponder 
ing  on  the  strange  hatred  which  this  pampered  young 
gentleman  had  felt  for  him  since  the  trouble  in 
school.  This  was  their  first  personal  interview  since 
that  exciting  chase  over  red  desks,  but  George  Arthur 
had  been  on  the  New  York's  quarter-deck  when  he 
had  been  called  aft  to  meet  the  officers,  and  had 
shown  his  attitude  toward  him  in  the  derisive  smile 
that  had  come  to  his  face,  and  in  the  superior  stare 
with  which  he  had  regarded  him  every  time  that 
chance  had  thrown  Dick  into  his  path. 

"  We  must  be  close  in,  sir,"  suggested  the  ma 
chinist,  softly.  "  Shall  I  slow  down  so  as  to  quiet 
the  engine  a  little?  " 

"  Yes — yes,**  answered  Arthur,  quickly.  "  Slow 
down — stop  altogether.  I  can't  see  a  thing.  Can 
any  one  see?  " 

"  Morro's  broad  on  the  starboard  bow,  sir,"  said 
Dick,  whose  eyes  were  good. 

"  And  there's  land  right  ahead — high  land,"  said 
the  engineer. 

"  Right — I  see.  Must  be  Socapa.  Where  the 
deuce  were  those  lights,  anyhow?  What  am  I  to 
find  out  in  here?  Nothing  going  on  that  I  see." 

"  There  was  a  log  boom  across  the  channel  a  little 
farther  in,  sir,"  said  one  of  the  men.  "  If  it  is  still 


208  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

there,  it  proves  that  no  torpedo-boats  are  out  to 
night." 

"  But  if  we  get  that  far,"  added  Dick,  "  we  might 
not  get  back." 

"  I  told  you  that  if  I  wanted  your  advice  I'd  call 
on  you,"  said  the  cadet,  angrily.  "  Remember  that." 

Dick  bit  his  lip,  but  blamed  only  himself. 

"  Go  ahead  with  the  machine,"  ordered  the  young 
gentleman.  "  We'll  see  about  that  boom,  anyway." 

Dick  grinned  bitterly. 

The  boat  went  ahead  at  half  speed.  In  five 
minutes  one  of  the  men  in  the  cockpit,  who  had  been 
looking  astern,  said,  "  Light  over  to  starboard,  sir — 
well  abaft  the  beam."  They  looked,  but  saw  noth 
ing;  yet  the  man  repeated  that  he  had  seen  it,  close 
down  to  the  water.  Then  a  flash  as  of  mild  lightning 
lit  up  the  bluff  to  starboard,  a  crackling  report  fol 
lowed,  and  water  splashed  in  their  faces.  Then  fol 
lowed  shouts  in  Spanish,  and  other  shots,  while  a 
small  search-light  from  the  battlements  sought  them 
out,  revealing  to  them  as  it  wandered  a  clear  expanse 
of  channel  ahead,  a  string  of  logs  partly  stowed 
under  the  batteries,  and  two  armed  launches  putting 
out  from  the  small  landing  astern  and  to  starboard, 
where  the  man  had  seen  the  light.  The  search-light 
from  above  caught  them,  and  a  rapid-fire  blast  of 
small  shot  and  shell  ensued,  while  the  search-light 
from  seaward  lifted  and  flooded  the  batteries.  The 
two  sailors  lay  quietly  down  in  the  bottom  of  the 
boat. 

"  We've  got  to  get  out  o'  here,  sir,"  said  the  en 
gineer.  "  I'll  give  her  full  speed,  if  you'll  put  the 
wheel  over." 

"  Yes,  give  it  to  her !  "  yelled  the  young  officer, 
excitedly,  as  he  ground  on  the  wheel;  and  then,  to 


CIVILIZATION  209 

Dick,  "  This  is  your  fault,  d —  you.  Oh-oh-oh- 
o-o-o-o-o ! "  The  speech  ended  in  a  groan,  and 
George  tumbled  to  the  bottom  beside  the  two  sailors. 
Dick  sprang  to  the  wheel.  "  Give  her  steam,"  he 
called.  "  We'll  have  to  run  in — not  out.  Mr.  Ar 
thur's  hit.  We  can't  get  out  now." 

There  was  no  answer,  and  Dick,  looking  aft,  saw 
the  engineer  leaning  over  the  combing  of  his  cockpit, 
as  if  he  were  dozing. 

He  steadied  the  launch  up  the  channel.  The 
engineer  had  opened  the  steam  valve  to  its  widest, 
and  the  little  launch  stormed  ahead,  followed  by 
the  pitiless  search-light  from  the  hill,  and  pelted 
by  a  sputtering  fusillade  of  shot  from  the  batteries 
and  from  the  pursuing  launches  astern;  but  with 
four  men  struck  down,  the  fates  seemed  satisfied. 
Dick  felt  the  wind  of  several  shots,  felt  the  grazing 
of  several  bullets,  and  felt  water  rising  over  his 
ankles ;  but  no  harm  came  to  him.  He  steered  on, 
past  the  sunken  Merrimac,  around  the  eastern  face  of 
Smith  Cay, — and  here  the  search-light  lost  him  and 
the  gun  fire  ceased, — across  to  the  western  shore  of 
the  harbor,  and  with  fires  nearly  extinct  grounded  the 
launch  on  a  shelving  beach  at  the  foot  of  a  hill.  The 
pursuing  launches  had  turned  back,  confident,  per 
haps,  that  daylight  would  show  them  their  quarry. 


CHAPTER  XLIII 

WITH  a  little  trouble  in  the  darkness,  for  Dick 
was   not   a  competent  engineer,   he   shut  off 
steam  and  regulated  the  fire;  then  he  examined  the 
men.     The  machinist  was  dead,  so  were  the  two  sail 
ors;  they  were  all  strangers  to  him,  and  none  had 


310  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

spoken  or  voluntarily  moved  after  the  shots  that  had 
killed  them.  George  Arthur,  partly  immersed  in 
water  at  the  bottom  of  the  cockpit,  was  breathing 
painfully.  Dick  lifted  his  head,  and  gently — for  this 
was  Mabel's  brother — inquired :  "  Are  you  badly 
hurt,  sir?  What  can  I  do?  " 

"Is — it — you,  Dick?"  gasped  George,  faintly. 
"  I — am — done  for.  I  think.  I  got — it — in  the  back 
— the  backbone.  I  can't — move  my — legs.  Can — 
you  lift — me  out  of — the  water?  It  smarts — oh, 
how — it  smarts !  " 

Dick  lifted  him  bodily  to  the  transom  seat  in  the 
cockpit,  and  pillowed  his  head  on  a  small  cork 
fender. 

"  Where — are — we — now  ?  "  asked  George,  when 
his  groans  had  ceased. 

"  In  the  harbor,  sir.  I've  beached  her  over  to  the 
westward.  We'll  have  to  sneak  out  later,  when 
they've  stopped  looking  for  us." 

"  Yes.  Try  it.  Be  careful.  It  won't  matter  to 
me.  I'm  going — fast,  Dick." 

His  voice  was  certainly  weaker. 

"  I  hope  not,  sir.  If  you  can  hold  out  until  we 
get  to  a  surgeon — " 

He  stopped,  realizing  the  mockery  in  his  words. 

"  Dick,"  said  George,  after  an  interval  of  silence, 
"  I  want — you — to  forgive  me — if — you  can,  for — 
that  matter — in — school." 

"  Oh,  don't  speak  of  that,  George — don't  think 
of  it  at  all.  Why,  you  straightened  it  all  out  at  the 
time." 

"  Under — compulsion — yes.  To — please  my — sis 
ter.  Tell — me  you  forgive — me," 

"  I  do,"  answered  Dick,  tears  starting  to  his  eyes. 
"  With  all  my  heart  and  soul  I  do." 


CIVILIZATION  211 

There  was  a  silence  for  a  little,  then  George  spoke 
again. 

"  It — was  the  only  thing — that  ever — came — be 
tween  us — that  ever  came — between — Mabel  and  me. 
She  always  wanted — me — to  write — to  you;  but — I 
would  not — not — even  for — her.  Tell  her — that  I — 
did,  will  you?  Tell  her  that  I  apologized — to  you." 

"  I  will — when  I  see  her,"  answered  Dick  in  a 
choked  voice.  "  I'll  tell  her  if  you  want  me  to.  But 
it  never  mattered  at  all,  George." 

"  Yes — it — did.     I  was  a  cur." 

His  breathing  grew  weaker  and  weaker  while  Dick 
held  his  hand;  then  he  lifted  his  head  a  few  inches 
and  spoke  clearly  and  distinctly,  with  the  last  flutter 
of  strength  and  prescience  which  comes  to  the  dying. 

"  Dick,"  he  said,  "  they  were  rigging  in  the  log 
boom  across  the  channel.  It  means  something — a 
torpedo  attack  on  the  fleet,  perhaps.  Run  the  bat 
teries  and  report  this  to  the  admiral.  It  will  make 
you.  Then  " — his  head  sank  down — "  go — to — 
Mabel.  Be — good — to — my — sister." 

He  said  no  more ;  and  Dick  did  not  know  the  mo 
ment  when  the  wayward  spirit  took  flight.  He  was 
weeping  convulsively,  for  the  first  time  since  the  day 
when  little  Bessie  Fleming's  sympathy  had  broken 
him  down  and  humanized  him. 

But  there  was  work  to  be  done.  He  was  in  a 
hostile  harbor,  with  four  dead  men  and  a  leaky 
steam  launch.  Three  plans  flashed  through  his  mind, 
each  fraught  with  danger.  He  could  leave  the  launch 
to  the  Spanish  and  the  dead  to  the  buzzards,  climb 
the  hill,  and  strike  the  coast  a  mile  south ;  here,  if  not 
caught  by  the  Spaniards,  he  might  attract  the  at 
tention  of  one  of  the  small  craft  of  the  fleet  and  be 
taken  off.  Or,  he  could  skirt  the  beach  to  the  east- 


MASTERS  OF  MEN 

ward,  swim  two  channels  of  three  or  four  hundred 
yards'  width,  and,  if  lucky,  reach  Guantanamo  where 
the  ships  coaled,  or  the  army  in  the  hills  to  the 
northward.  Or  he  could  patch  up  the  holes  in  the 
launch,  make  steam,  and  in  the  gray  of  the  morning, 
when  the  search-light  lifted  and  full  light  of  day  had 
not  come  to  aid  the  gunners  in  their  aim,  he  could 
go  out  the  way  that  he  had  come.  There  was  more 
chance  of  success  in  the  first  two  plans  than  in  the 
last;  but  such  success  would  bring  him  only  a  few 
congratulations  on  his  good  luck  in  saving  his  life. 
On  the  other  hand,  the  running  of  three  batteries, 
the  bringing  out  of  the  body  of  an  officer,  and  the 
report — even  a  tardy  report — of  the  removal  of  the 
log  boom,  was  what  he  had  wished  for — opportunity, 
which  comes  to  but  a  favored  few.  He  might  die  in 
the  attempt,  but  then — her  brother  had  died.  If  he 
lived  through  it,  he  would  have  recognition,  honor, 
promotion — perhaps  an  appointment  to  Annapolis. 
He  saw  himself  in  uniform,  a  commissioned  officer  of 
the  United  States  navy — an  "  officer  and  a  gentle 
man  " ;  and  with  the  tears  yet  undried  on  his  face 
his  resolution  was  taken. 

It  was  about  eleven  o'clock,  and  when  the  launch 
had  grounded  the  ebb  tide,  as  he  reasoned  by  an  in 
spection  of  the  beach,  was  about  two  hours  old.  The 
water  had  flooded  the  fire  as  the  boat  settled,  and 
now,  as  the  tide  receded,  it  was  dribbling  out  through 
the  shot  holes  in  the  bottom.  Dick  dared  not  light  a 
lantern ;  he  could  only  search  along  the  bottom,  plank 
by  plank,  feeling  with  his  fingers,  and  stopping  each 
hole  as  he  found  it  with  a  plug  whittled  from  a 
swab  handle.  The  boat  lay  heeled  to  starboard,  and 
the  holes  on  this  side  could  only  be  reached  from 
within ;  but  as  the  shots  had  all  come  from  the  east 


CIVILIZATION  213 

side  of  the  channel,  he  hoped  that  there  would  be 
few.  Most  that  he  found  were  bullet  holes ;  but  here 
and  there  was  a  ragged  aperture  made  by  a  one- 
pound  shot,  and  one  gaping  hole  near  the  water-line 
indicated  the  work  of  a  six-pounder.  Before  long 
he  realized  that  the  night  would  be  all  too  short  for 
the  task  of  making  that  launch  seaworthy,  and  thank 
fully  computed  that  the  tide  could  not  get  back  until 
near  daylight.  This  would  leave  him  scant  time  to 
fire  up  and  run  out  before  the  morning  sun  made  him 
too  visible  for  safety ;  but  between  broad  daylight 
and  the  blinding  glare  of  a  search-light  he  would 
choose  the  first. 

He  found  pump-tacks  and  a  hammer  in  the  engi 
neer's  locker;  he  cut  patches  of  canvass  from  the 
white  jumpers  of  the  dead  sailors,  and  tacked  them 
over  all  holes  too  large  or  too  ragged  to  be  plugged. 
He  worked  feverishly,  pantingly,  incessantly,  know 
ing  neither  hunger,  thirst,  nor  fear.  He  was  in 
spired  not  so  much  by  patriotism  as  by  Mabel  Ar 
thur's  complimentary  injunction  to  "  come  home  an 
officer." 

Daylight  found  him  haggard  and  exhausted,  with 
all  holes  that  he  had  found  plugged  or  patched,  with 
steam  hissing  hot  in  the  small  boiler,  and  his  silent 
passengers  laid  out  on  the  forward  transoms.  It  was 
time  to  go,  and  he  was  ready  to  go,  yet  the  tide  had 
but  just  reached  the  rudder  of  the  launch  and  would 
not  float  it  for  an  hour.  And  while  he  waited  he 
watched  with  burning  eyes  the  panorama  unfolding 
as  the  darkness  gave  place  to  the  sudden  day  of  the 
tropics. 

The  launch  lay  near  the  middle  of  a  concave  of 
beach,  the  arc  of  which  ranged  about  east  and  west. 
Off  to  the  west,  and  farther  still  to  the  north,  were 


MASTERS  OF  MEN 

broad  reaches  of  sparkling  water,  bordered  by  partly 
wooded  slopes  of  steep  ground.  To  the  east  lay  the 
opposite  shore  of  the  channel,  which  at  a  high  bluff  a 
little  farther  in  broke  sharply  to  the  northeast  and 
extended  in  a  straight  line  to  the  city  of  Santiago, 
two  miles  away.  There  were  a  few  habitations  in 
sight  among  the  trees,  and  here  and  there  on  the  bay 
small  sail  and  steam  craft,  which  paid  no  attention 
to  the  gray  spot  on  the  southern  beach.  And  after 
a  cursory  inspection  of  each  Dick  paid  as  little  at 
tention  to  them.  His  eyes  were  fixed  on  six  black 
craft  at  anchor  just  below  the  city, — four  cruisers 
and  two  torpedo  boats.  Bunting  was  rising  and  fall 
ing  from  the  signal  yards  of  all,  and  thick,  black 
smoke  was  belching  from  the  funnels.  It  was  Cer- 
vera's  fleet,  and  it  was  getting  up  steam. 


CHAPTER  XLIV 

NO  mere  shifting  of  berths  required  all  that 
smoke,  and  Dick  knew  it.  It  meant  a  full  head 
of  steam,  and  this  meant  full  speed.  The  ships  were 
going  out — to  fight  or  run.  Here  was  his  opportu 
nity,  and  he  was  balked  by  the  tide.  He  pushed  des 
perately,  but  the  heavy  launch  would  not  move,  and 
in  a  state  bordering  on  insanity  he  paced  up  and 
down  the  beach,  until  he  realized  that  the  presence 
of  the  launch  in  the  harbor  was  known,  and  that  his 
white  duck  suit  made  a  conspicuous  mark  against  the 
dull  green  of  the  hill  behind  him.  Then  he  hid  in 
the  after  cockpit  and  tried  to  compose  his  nerves  by 
grooming  the  engine. 

An  hour  he  waited,  occasionally  peeping  out   at 
the  squadron  up  the  bay,  wondering  why  he  was  not 


CIVILIZATION  215 

sought  for  by  the  launches  that  had  chased  him  in. 
Then  a  slight  tremor  in  the  boat  aroused  him  to  a 
second  effort  to  launch  her.  This  time,  with  the  help 
of  the  reversed  engine,  he  succeeded ;  the  craft  backed 
and  floated,  but  before  he  could  shift  the  helm  to 
throw  her  around  he  felt  water  on  his  feet  and  knew 
that  somewhere  a  gaping  hole  had  escaped  his  notice. 
The  water  came  too  fast  for  safety,  and  he  saw, 
by  standing  erect,  that  it  came  from  underneath 
the  forward  deck,  probably  on  the  starboard  side  of 
the  forefoot,  where  he  had  not  been  able  to  see  or 
feel.  He  reversed  the  engine,  heeled  the  boat  to 
port  as  it  grounded,  and  set  desperately  to  work. 

He  found  the  leak — the  largest  hole  of  all — a 
whole  plank  end  carried  away.  There  was  a  small 
saw  in  the  locker,  and  with  its  help  he  robbed  the 
cockpit  combing  of  a  section,  and  with  strenuous 
effort — digging  a  hole  in  the  sand  for  room  to  wield 
the  hammer — he  covered  the  hole.  But  it  was  a  flat 
plank  over  a  concave  surface;  there  was  calking  to 
be  done,  and  over  all  was  needed  a  canvas  patch  to 
protect  it  from  the  wash.  When  the  job  was  done, 
and  he  stood  erect,  dripping  wet  and  faint  with 
hunger  and  fatigue,  the  sun  was  high,  and  he  saw 
the  black  ships  under  way,  just  leaving  their  buoys. 

His  opportunity  was  being  reduced  to  a  matter  of 
effort  expended  and  good  intent ;  yet  this  was  enough, 
could  he  but  beat  that  squadron  out  to  sea  and  make 
his  presence  known.  He  sprang  aboard,  backed  the 
engine  under  a  full  head  of  steam,  and  the  boat 
pulled  slowly  off.  No  more  water  came  in.  Steering 
by  the  tiller,  he  threw  her  around  and  went  ahead, 
rounding  Caracoles  Point  into  the  west  channel  past 
Smith  Cay.  He  chose  this  route  because,  though  he 
risked  possible  small-arm  fire  from  the  inshore  side 


216  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

of  Socapa  Battery  up  on  the  hill,  he  would  avoid  the 
attention  of  the  mounted  guns  of  the  Catalina  Bat 
tery  on  the  east  shore  until  he  rounded  Puntilla, 
nearly  abreast.  Thankful  for  the  good  fortune  that 
had  given  him  access  to  Breen's  charts,  he  rushed 
the  little  craft  down  the  channel  by  memory  of  what 
the  charts  had  told  him,  turned  east  toward  Puntilla, 
and  had  almost  reached  it,  when  a  fusillade  began  on 
the  hilltop  astern,  and  a  shower  of  bullets  spattered 
the  water.  Suddenly  he  felt  a  stinging  pain  in  his 
left  thigh,  and  an  almost  overpowering  weakness  came 
over  him ;  but,  seated  on  the  engineer's  stool,  he 
managed  to  keep  his  balance,  and  soon  the  shock  of 
the  impact  left  him,  though  the  stinging  pain  and  the 
weakness  remained. 

The  fusillade  continued,  and  out  of  the  corner 
of  his  eye  he  saw  men  from  the  Socapa  Battery 
running  down  the  hill  to  intercept  him  when  he  had 
rounded  the  point.  Some  paused  to  fire  at  him,  and 
some  who  remained  behind  worked  at  machine  guns, 
turning  and  training  them  on  the  small  gray  float 
ing  hearse  with  its  four  dead  and  its  wounded  driver. 
Soon  these  guns  belched  their  message,  and  larger 
shot  peppered  the  water  around  the  launch.  And 
Dick,  steering  wild,  barely  able  to  keep  his  seat, 
totally  unable  to  feed  his  fire  and  replenish  steam,  yet 
heard  distinctly  over  the  rattle  of  gun  fire  the  sound 
of  a  church  bell  behind  him  on  Smith  Cay,  calling 
the  faithful  few  that  had  remained  on  the  island  to 
Sunday  morning  worship.  But  down  on  the  wharf 
of  the  island  men  had  collected  with  rifles,  and  a 
bullet,  through  his  left  arm  told  him  that  Christian 
brotherhood  was  elastic.  They  were  trying  to  kill 
him — these  men  of  his  faith ;  and  when  they  had 
done  so,  they  would  probably  heed  the  bell.  Seeing 


CIVILIZATION 

dimly,  as  though  a  fog  had  settled  down  on  the 
water,  he  rounded  the  dock  at  Caracoles  Point,  and 
headed  south,  immediately  receiving  the  greeting 
of  the  Catalina  Battery.  No  shells  were  sent,  but 
solid  shot,  large  and  small,  crashed  and  whistled 
around  his  ears.  Far  out  to  sea  lay  a  high-bowed 
battle-ship — the  only  craft  of  the  American  fleet 
discernible  between  the  jaws  of  the  channel  mouth. 
He  strained  his  dimmed  eyes  in  the  effort  to  focus 
and  identify  her,  and  barely  knew  the  Iowa.  She  lay 
bows  on  to  him,  silent  and  inert.  His  thoughts  were 
hardly  coherent  now,  but  with  time  he  would  have 
prayed  for  interference  from  that  quiet,  gray 
monster  out  there,  one  shell  from  which  could  silence 
this  venomous  hail  of  lead  and  steel.  He  turned, 
painfully,  and  looked  back.  Around  Smith  Cay  was 
coming  the  leading  ship  of  the  Spanish  fleet,  a  two- 
funneled,  two-masted  ram-bowed  cruiser,  glistening 
black  in  the  morning  sun.  Among  the  battle  flags 
aloft  was  the  flag  of  an  admiral.  She  was  piling  up 
a  bow  wave  bigger  than  his  small  launch;  she  would 
beat  him  out,  for  he  was  not  yet  abreast  of  the 
Estrella  Battery.  Over  the  steep  slope  of  the  island 
he  saw  the  spars  of  the  second  in  line.  There  would 
be  an  action — in  which  he  could  have  no  share.  He 
would  be  shot  to  death  before  it  began. 

But  as  he  looked  ahead,  half  blind  in  his  weak 
ness,  and  endeavored  to  steady  his  craft  to  a 
straighter  course,  he  became  aware  that  gun  fire 
had  ceased.  The  Catalina  Battery  was  silent,  the 
Estrella  had  not  begun,  the  riflemen  from  the  Socapa 
Battery  to  starboard  were  leaning  on  their  grounded 
arms  and  watching  him.  At  one  side  stood  a  Spanish 
officer  with  drawn  sword,  the  point  of  which  touched 
the  ground.  In  his  left  hand  was  his  cap,  which,  as 


218  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

Dick  looked,  he  raised  to  a  level  with  his  face,  and 
slowly  lowered.  Dick's  cap  was  gone,  he  knew  not 
when  or  where,  but,  wounded  and  weak,  half-crazed 
from  the  ordeal,  he  yet  recognized  the  chivalry  of 
the  act,  and  responded  by  lowering  his  head.  Then 
there  came  to  him  a  ringing  hail  in  pure  English : 
"  Proceed  with  your  dead,  American." 
And  the  leaky  launch,  with  its  crippled  helmsman 
and  its  cargo  of  corpses,  passed  slowly  by  the  Es- 
trella  Battery,  whose  gunners  stood  up  and  waved 
their  hands.  What  signal  had  flashed  back  and  forth 
across  the  channel  can  only  be  surmised.  Possibly  it 
concerned  the  shame  of  firing  on  an  ambulance ;  it 
certainly  had  no  bearing  on  or  reference  to  Dick'* 
dwindling  opportunity — the  prompting  spirit  of  that 
armistice  could  not  have  guessed  that  this  lunacy 
was  born  of  a  girl's  friendly  phrasing  of  a  compli 
ment. 

But  neither  signals  nor  soldierly  ethics  influenced 
the  gunners  of  the  Morro  batteries  at  the  mouth  of 
the  harbor.  They  received  the  slowly  creeping,  half- 
filled  little  craft  with  roaring  protests  from  heavy 
guns  and  a  shower  of  projectiles,  large  and  smalL 
The  tiller  was  shot  out  of  Dick's  handr  and  the  launch, 
a  port-helmed  craft,  sheered  out  in  the  channel;  a 
one-pound  shot  pierced  the  boiler,  and  the  pent-up 
steam  escaped  in  a  wheezing  whistle ;  a  small  shell 
exploded  in  the  forward  cockpit,  disturbing  the  dead 
and  shattering  the  bottom ;  a  fragment  of  steel 
ploughed  through  Dick's  already  maimed  left  armr 
and  he  sank  in  a  heap ;  then,  as  the  launch  gently 
dived  to  the  bottom,  he  found  himself  immersed, 
partly  revived  by  the  shock  of  cold  water,  weakly 
struggling  with  his  still  uninjured  right  arm  and  leg 
to  reach  the  surface.  Before  he  did  so  a  huge  black 


CIVILIZATION  219 

mass  struck  him  in  the  ribs,  and  in  a  rush  of  water 
he  slid  up — hung  like  a  limp  towel  over  a  rack — on 
the  slanting  steel  ram  of  the  outbound  Spanish  flag 
ship. 

Clinging  desperately  to  the  sharp  edge,  choking 
in  the  small  Niagara  piled  up  by  the  cruiser's  rush,, 
he  looked  up  at  swarthy  faces  of  men  above.  They 
were  sailors,  and  the  fraternity  of  the  sea  was  in 
them.  They  slid  down  with  ropes  and  hauled  him  up  ; 
then  one,  smiling  like  a  mother,  forced  a  bottle  to  his 
lips  and  poured  whisky  down  his  throat. 

"  What  you  say,  eh,  sheepmate?  "  he  said,  jovially* 
"  What  you  call  him — Datch  Careege?  I  once  sheep 
in  Americano  sheep.  Adios,  sheepmate." 

An  officer  called,  and  the  men  went  to  their  station* 
as  a  gun  spoke  to  seaward.  Dick,  lying  helpless  on 
the  deck,  facing  aft,  warmed  by  the  stimulant  to  an 
interest  in  his  surroundings,  saw  the  large  Hontoria 
gun  in  the  forward  turret  swing  slowly  to  port* 
Then  it  belched,  and  the  battle  was  on. 


CHAPTER  XLV 

HUNTING  is  an  ancient  institution;  it  began 
when  the  first  monera  found  others  in  their 
way.  Man  was  a  hunter  when,  more  brute  than 
human,  he  fought  his  enemies  with  claws  and  teeth. 
Then,  with  the  development  of  his  prehensile  thumb, 
he  brought  to  his  aid  clubs  and  stones.  The  club 
became  a  mace,  later  a  tomahawk  of  stone  or  ironr 
and  for  the  speedier  propulsion  of  the  stone  was  in 
vented  the  sling.  The  sling  suggested  the  catapult 
and  the  bow ;  the  edge  of  the  tomahawk  prompted  the 


220  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

knife,  the  spear,  and  the  sword.  Man  now  called  him 
self  civilized,  and  with  his  civilization  came  a  new 
weapon — brain.  Then  diplomacy  and  business 
method  came  into  vogue  as  potent  weapons  in  war 
fare.  Then  came  gunpowder,  and  the  hollow  tube  to 
confine  it  and  direct  the  projectile  driven  by  its  ex 
pansion. 

These  were  great  inventions,  superseding  the  spear 
and  the  knife,  the  tomahawk  and  the  bow,  leaving 
only  the  sword — a  cumbersome  article  of  dress.  The 
hollow  tube  developed  into  the  rapid-fire  rifle,  the 
solid  projectile  into  a  shell.  And  to  aid  this  gun  to 
fire  its  shell  to  best  advantage,  science  was  cultivated, 
and  the  battle-ship — the  culmination  of  every  art, 
trade,  and  invention  of  civilized  man,  was  produced 
to  carry  the  gun  which  fired  the  shell.  But  through 
every  change  of  weapon  and  method,  in  battle  or  in 
business,  man,  the  hunter,  has  remained  the  same. 
Singly  or  collectively,  as  family,  tribe,  or  nation,  he 
succeeds  and  survives  only  by  the  destruction  of  his 
enemies.  He  is  still  a  hunter,  and  on  this  bright 
Sunday  morning,  near  the  end  of  the  nineteenth  cen 
tury,  Dick  Halpin,  wounded,  faint,  and  discouraged, 
played  a  passive  part  in  one  of  the  fiercest  hunts  that 
ever  occurred  on  earth.  Ostensibly,  it  was  a  duel  be 
tween  the  representatives  of  two  warring  nations,  in 
reality  a  chase — of  men  by  men,  with  victory  for  a 
prize,  and  with  the  ethical  considerations  of  honor, 
glory,  and  patriotism  but  little  in  advance  of  the 
mercenary  consideration  of  bounty.  And  the 
weapons  of  the  hunters  were  the  most  deadly  devised 
by  inventive  genius,  ranging  from  machine  guns, 
capable  of  sixty  shots  a  minute,  through  the  various 
grades  of  larger  calibers  to  turreted  rifles  which 
.spoke  only  twelve  times  an  hour,  but  which  sent 


CIVILIZATION  221 

pointed  cylinders  of  over  half  a  ton's  weight  through 
foot-thick  steel  walls  to  explode  within. 

Parched  with  thirst,  and  bleeding,  his  arm  and 
leg  numb  with  pain,  Dick  Halpin  lay  under  the  hot 
sun  on  the  hotter  deck,  with  two  rills  of  pinkish 
water  trickling  from  his  drenched  clothing  to  the 
scuppers, — one  to  starboard,  one  to  port, — and  took 
such  cognizance  of  the  hunt  as  was  in  his  power. 
Facing  aft,  he  saw  officers  on  the  bridge  paying  him 
no  attention  whatever;  later,  as  the  ship  rang  with 
the  blows  of  projectiles,  they  disappeared — he  knew 
not  where.  Shells  were  crashing  into  the  hull  beneath 
him,  coming  from  ahead  and  to  port,  but  he  could 
not  move  to  look,  nor  did  he  care  to. 

Far  back  on  the  starboard  quarter  was  being 
enacted  a  scene  of  the  terrible  drama  that  would 
have  engaged  a  livelier  attention  than  his.  The 
three  following  cruisers  were  drawing  to  port,  the 
leader  just  discernible  past  the  forward  turret; 
but  the  two  torpedo  boats  which  brought  up  the  rear 
had  swerved  inshore,  as  though  to  avoid  the  fire  from 
the  American  ships,  and  charging  across  the  wake  of 
the  parade  was  a  clipper-bowed  converted  yacht,  al 
most  hidden  in  the  smoke  of  her  guns.  She  was  hunt 
ing,  and  her  prey  was  the  torpedo  contingent.  Spit 
ting  fire  and  steel  through  the  cloud  of  smoke  which 
almost  enveloped  her,  the  rattle  of  her  guns  drowned 
in  the  nearer  volume  of  sound,  she  passed  out  of 
Dick's  sight  behind  the  turret  and  superstructure, 
then  emerged  into  view  on  the  starboard  quarter.  One 
torpedo-boat  turned  shoreward,  steam  and  smoke 
oozing  from  her  riven  hull,  and  a  few  minutes  later 
seemed  to  melt  away  in  the  surf  of  the  beach ;  the 
other  kept  on,  smoking  like  her  sister,  until  a  violent 
explosion  occurred  amidships.  Ske  settled  by  the 


222  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

stern,  her  bow  lifted  like  the  nose  of  a  drowning 
dog,  then  sank.  Again  it  lifted,  higher  and  higher, 
until  a  third  of  the  keel  was  exposed,  and  in  a  cloud 
of  steam  she  slid  stern  first  to  the  bottom. 

The  flagship  rang  and  crashed  and  roared  with 
the  noise  of  shells  received  and  sent.  There  was 
not  a  man  to  be  seen  on  her  deck,  but  at  certain 
moments,  at  intervals  between  echoes  of  the  last  and 
the  deafening  din  of  the  next  riot  of  sound,  Dick 
could  hear  fragmentary  shrieks  and  howls  from  the 
gun-deck  beneath.  Men  were  suffering  down  there, 
and  when  a  large  shell  entered  the  bow,  and  marked 
its  raking  passage  aft  by  tremors  and  convulsions 
in  every  plate,  the  humming  of  human  voices  spoke 
more  of  agony  than  poor  Dick  could  comprehend  at 
the  time.  Then  came  a  blinding  flash  of  light  at  the 
gun-port  of  the  forward  turret,  and  the  ensuing 
thunderous  roar  brought  the  horror  of  war  still  closer 
home  to  him;  a  shell  had  exploded  within,  and  the 
belching  cloud  of  yellow  smoke  was  streaked  with 
dark  lines,  fragments  of — something. 

The  gun  was  silent  for  a  while,  and  in  the  lull 
the  ship  swung  seaward,  offering  to  Dick's  vision  the 
dark  green  background  of  the  Cuban  hills — a  slight 
rest  for  his  aching  eyes.  But  there  was  no  rest  for 
his  ears  nor  his  nerves;  the  crashing  of  shot  and 
shell,  and  the  chattering  and  roaring  of  guns  con 
tinued,  and,  in  a  fever  of  desperate  curiosity,  he 
summoned  strength  and  rolled  on  his  side,  groan 
ing  with  pain,  but  more  content.  He  could  see  the 
Iowa.  She  was  storming  along  in  her  smoke,  tongues 
of  flame  piercing  the  fleecy  envelope,  her  superstruc 
ture  a  scintillating  line  of  sparkling  red.  The  ship 
turned  back  to  her  course  and  soon  the  Texas  came  in 
sight, — the  ridiculed  Texas,  "  hoodoo  "  of  the  fleet, 


CIVILIZATION 

— blazing  away  with  her  sponson  guns  and  keeping 
pace  with  the  invincible  Iowa.  Then  appeared  the 
three-funneled  Brooklyn,  the  racer,  the  happy  com 
promise  of  armor,  guns,  and  coal  supply.  The  rattle 
of  her  powerful  secondary  battery  rivaled  the  sound 
of  musketry,  and  was  distinguishable,  even  at  the 
distance,  above  the  storm  of  battle.  Wavering  in  his 
glances,  Dick  looked  for  the  New  York,  but  she  was 
not  in  sight ;  neither  was  the  torpedo  boat  to  which 
he  belonged,  but  apparently  rising  out  of  the  sea,  be 
tween  the  Iowa  and  the  Texas,  appeared  the  monster 
Oregon,  the  battle-ship  which  had  taken  him  north 
from  Rio  Janeiro.  She  flamed  with  fire  and  hid  be 
hind  her  smoke,  then  emerged,  blazing  ceaselessly 
and  rushing  on.  Dick  watched  her  a  few  moments 
with  darkening  faculties,  noted  the  position  of  the 
second  ship  of  the  Spanish  squadron  out  to  sea  and 
of  the  third  drawing  ahead  of  them  all,  then  fainted 
from  pain  and  thirst  and  loss  of  blood. 

Pain,  that  had  helped  deprive  him  of  consciousness, 
brought  it  back.  Pain  that  he  had  never  known  be 
fore  afflicted  him;  he  was  writhing  on  a  hot  deck, 
suffocating  with  smoke  and  the  fumes  of  burning 
woodwork.  The  engines  had  stopped,  and  the  only 
gun-fire  to  be  heard  was  far  away,  where  the  hunt 
was  still  on.  Around  him  in  the  smoke  were  men 
stricken  like  himself,  and  worse — men  who  had 
crawled  up  from  the  blast  furnace  buzzing  and  hum 
ming  beneath  the  hot  deck.  Some,  groaning  and 
wheezing  as  they  crawled,  were  moving  slowly  toward 
the  rail,  through  which  a  few  succeeded  in  dropping. 
Others  remained  where  the  last  weakness  had  over 
taken  them.  A  momentary  clearing  of  the  smoke 
showed  to  Dick  the  after  part  of  the  ship  in  flames, 
the  foremast  gone,  and  in  the  fighting  top  on  the 


MASTERS  OF  MEN 

mainmast  the  body  of  a  man  leaning  over  as  though 
hailing  the  deck.  There  was  a  jarring  vibration  in 
the  hull  and  an  occasional  note  in  the  roar  of  flame 
that  sounded  like  surf  beating  on  rocks.  The  ship 
was  beached  and  deserted  by  all  able  to  move. 

A  hail  rang  out  from  overboard :  "  On  deck,  there, 
ye  poor  divils.  Can  any  o'  yez  take  a  line?  Stand 
by." 

A  rope  whirled  snakelike,  high  over  the  rail  and 
dropped,  but  there  was  none  to  take  it;  it  was  with 
drawn,  and  then  it  came  again  in  the  form  of  a  run 
ning  bowline  which  settled  over  a  stanchion.  It  was 
tautened,  and  a  man  climbed  aboard — a  bare-waisted, 
bare-headed  man  with  a  bearded  red  face. 

"  Oh,  Mither  o'  Mercy,  boys,  what  a  sight ! "  he 
shouted  in  mournful  tones.  "  Come  up — come  up, 
boys.  There  be  some  alive." 

"  Morrisey — Morrisey,"  gasped  Dick.  "  Here — • 
give  me  a  hand," 

Morrisey  sprang  toward  him  and  peered  into  his 
face. 

"  Dick,  be  the  powers  !  "  he  shouted.  "  Bronson, 
below  there.  Here's  Dick,  fryin'  in  his  own  juice. 
Oh,  ye  poor  bye,  and  how  come  ye  here  wi'  the 
dagoes  ?  " 

He  lifted  Dick  in  his  arms  and  turned  toward  the 
rail.  Other  men  were  swarming  up,  and  the  leader, 
a  giant  of  a  man,  took  him  from  Morrisey.  Dis 
daining  the  slow  descent  by  the  rope,  he  sprang  with 
him  into  the  sea;  for  Dick's  clothing,  dried  by  the 
heat,  was  in  flames. 


CIVILIZATION  225 


CHAPTER  XLVI 

NEARLY  four  months  after  the  sailing  of  the 
Mary  Earl,  about  the  time  that  Dick  and  Breen 
joined  the  fleet,  the  following  appeared  in  an  issue 
of  the  Allville  Evening  Times: 

"  A  little  light  is  shed  on  the  mysterious  disappearance  of 
Ensign  Breen,  United  States  navy,  by  the  story  of  Mayor 
Arthur,  who,  with  his  son  and  daughter,  was  a  guest  of  Mr. 
Breen  aboard  his  ship  on  the  afternoon  of  the  day  on  which 
he  disappeared.  It  seems  that  the  young  ruffian  Halpin,  who 
instigated  the  riot  in  our  streets,  is,  or  was,  a  member  of  the 
crew,  and  was  given  shore  leave  on  that  afternoon.  He  accom 
panied  the  party  out  of  the  navy  yard,  and  carried  Mr.  Breen's 
grip  to  the  gate.  Mr.  Arthur  observed  that  they  had  words 
at  the  gate  when  Halpin  surrendered  the  grip,  and  that  the 
sailor  seemed  in  a  rage.  Later,  at  the  New  York  terminal 
of  the  Brooklyn  Bridge,  Mr.  Breen  requested  the  mayor  to 
take  his  grip  to  the  Grand  Central  Station,  and  started  in 
pursuit  of  Halpin  up  Park  Row.  It  is  known  that  Mr.  Breen 
has  never  called  for  his  grip,  and  as  war  is  on,  it  is  more  than 
likely  that  he  would  have  reported  for  duty  if  alive.  The 
scoundrelly  Halpin  has  not  since  been  seen.  What  tale  of 
foul  play  and  murder  will  come  to  light  when  he  is  caught 
can  only  be  surmised." 

Miss  Bessie  Fleming  read  this  with  dilated  eyes 
at  the  supper  table.  The  meal  being  over,  she  took 
the  paper  to  her  room  and  read  it  again,  then  sat 
thinking  for  a  full  quarter  of  an  hour.  She  sat  where 
her  face  was  reflected  back  to  her  from  a  large 
mirror,  and  a  passing  abstracted  glance  showed  her 
its  tense  expression.  She  arose  and  inspected  her 
self  at  full  length.  Though  never  careless  of  her 
dress,  and  most  certainly  arrayed  as  a  young  lady 
might  be  in  her  own  home,  yet  her  eye  caught  little 
details  which  betrayed  the  indifference  which  had 
come  to  her  regarding  her  appearance.  Her  face 
was  pale,  now,  very  pale,  and  there  was  a  worn  look 


226  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

in  it — a  slight  drooping  at  the  corners  orWier  mouth 
— which,  at  her  age,  could  easily  become  fixed.  Her 
whole  appearance  indicated  pain,  incessant  and  tor 
menting. 

But  as  she  looked  a  light  came  to  her  eyes  and  a 
faint  tinge  to  her  cheeks ;  her  breath  came  faster, 
and  the  lines  about  her  mouth  hardened  a  little,  then 
sweetened  to  a  smile — a  bitter  smile,  to  be  sure,  but  a 
smile,  an  improvement  in  the  pathetic  face.  She 
went  to  a  closet  and  brought  forth  gowns  and  gar 
ments,  hats,  boots,  and  belts.  From  boxes  and 
receptacles  came  gloves,  ribbons,  and  handkerchiefs. 
She  laid  out  the  exhibit — a  wealth  of  splendor  which 
a  woman  might  imagine,  but  no  man  describe — and 
stood  off  to  choose.  An  hour  later,  equipped  for 
battle,  she  went  forth,  rang  the  bell  of  a  large  brick 
house  around  the  corner,  and  sent  up  her  card  to 
Miss  Mabel  Arthur. 

She  was  a  symphony  in  color,  and  even  harmonized 
with  the  fittings  of  the  parlor. 

But  another  harmony  came  down  to  meet  her — a 
creature  fluffily  gowned  in  tulle  but  little  darker  than 
her  crown  of  coiled  hair,  with  but  two  relieving  flecks 
of  red — a  ribbon  at  her  throat,  a  flower  in  her  belt — 
with  color  in  her  lips  and  cheeks  that  rivaled  the  red, 
with  a  diamond  on  her  finger  no  brighter  than  the 
sparkle  in  her  eyes.  The  two  poems  took  momentary 
measurements,  then  Mabel  advanced  with  a  smile. 

"  Why,  Bessie,"  she  exclaimed,  as  their  lips  met, 
<l  where  have  you  been?  It's  an  age  since  I've  seen 
you.  You  look  lovely — really  you  do."  She  ca 
ressed  Bessie's  shirtwaist — a  fluffy  thing  of  silk — and 
led  her  to  the  sofa.  "  Take  your  things  off,  dear. 
It's  so  long  since  you've  called.  Give  me  your  hat 
and  your  wrap." 


CIVILIZATION  227 

"  No — really,  Mabel,  I  can't  stay.  I  must  return 
soon.  I  didn't  tell  mother  I  was  going  out,  you  see." 

"Must  you?  What  a  pity!  But  tell  me,  Bes 
sie  " — and  again  she  fondled  the  silk  creation — 
"  where  did  you  get  it  ?  In  New  York  ?  It  is  simply 
beautiful." 

"  No,"  answered  Bessie,  deprecatingly,  for  Mabel's 
equipment  shed  the  flavor  of  duties  paid,  "  it  was 
made  at  home.  I  trust  a  good  deal,  you  know,  to 
Anna's  taste  and  to  mother's." 

"  But  it  is  lovely,  and  your  hat,  too.  How  do  you 
manage?  " 

Then  followed  a  twenty-minute  discussion  of 
things  feminine  which  have  no  place  in  this  story. 
At  the  end  of  it,  Bessie,  with  the  sweetest  smile  she 
could  assume,  which  hardly  hid  the  tightening  of  her 
lips,  said: 

"  By  the  way,  Mabel,  did  you  read  what  the  paper 
said  to-night?  " 

"Yes — part  of  it.     Why  do  you  ask?" 

"About  Mr.  Breen's  disappearance?  Did  you 
read  that?" 

"  Oh,  yes.  They  seem  to  think  that  he  has  been 
murdered.  WTho  would  have  thought  it  of  Dick;  and 
we  had  been  so  interested  in  him." 

"  But,  Mabel " — and  Bessie  almost  gasped  it — 
"  you  don't  think  so,  do  you?  You  don't  think  that 
Dick  would  kill  him?  Why,  he  couldn't.  Dick  Hal- 
pin.  He  couldn't.  You  know  he  couldn't.  I  will 
never  believe  it." 

"  I  really  do  not  know,"  replied  Mabel,  twirling 
her  diamond,  "  what  Dick  could  or  could  not  do.  He 
seems  to  have  a  very  violent  temper.  The  paper  calls 
him  a  ruffian  and  a  scoundrel.  Ruffians  and 
scoundrels  sometimes  commit  murder." 


228  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

"  And  don't  you  care?  "  Bessie  stood  up.  "Don't 
you  care  anything  about  it?  Dick  Halpin,  whom 
you  have  talked  about  for  years,  is  charged  with 
murder.  You  were  there  on  that  day — you  saw 
him — you  must  have  seen  him — you  must  know  what 
the  quarrel  was  about.  Why  did  he  follow  him  ?  You 
know,  Mabel.  Why  did  Mr.  Breen  follow  him  to  his 
death?  " 

Mabel  still  twirled  the  diamond  while  she  looked 
up  at  the  agitated  Bessie,  now  pacing  about  in  short, 
hurried  turns. 

"  I  am  not  concerned,  Bessie,"  she  answered, 
slowly,  "  about  this  aspect  of  the  case,  because  I 
happen  to  know  that  Dick  Halpin  did  not  kill  Mr. 
Breen." 

"  No — he  did  not  ?  Then  where  is  he  ?  What 
has  happened?  Is  he  alive?  " 

Bessie  paused  in  her  walk,  and  stood  over  Mabel 
with  eyes  wide  open,  and  hands  tightly  clenched. 
"  Tell  me,"  she  added,  and  there  was  almost  a  threat 
in  the  command. 

"  Yes,"  replied  Mabel,  impassively,  "  he  is  alive 
and  " — she  pressed  her  diamond  to  her  lips — "  I 
should  think  very  happy  to  be  alive." 

"Where,  Mabel?  Where  is  he?"  Bessie  leaned 
over  her. 

"  Which  one  do  you  mean?  "  asked  Mabel.  "  Both 
are  alive,  and  one  is  happy — that  is,  if  I  may  judge 
by  the  letter  I  received  this  morning." 

"A  letter?  Oh — yes — a  letter — to  you — "  Bes 
sie  stood  erect.  "  I  understand,  of  course.  He  is 
alive,  and  writes  to  you.  I  really  beg  your  pardon 
— I  did  not  think."  She  went  to  the  mirror,  and 
though  her  hat  was  symmetrically  true  in  adjust 
ment,  she  gave  it  a  few  spasmodic  pats ;  then  she 


CIVILIZATION  229 

turned  and  advanced  toward  Mabel,  who  had 
arisen. 

"  He  was  mine,  Mabel,"  said  Bessie,  as  she  paused 
in  the  center  of  the  room.  "  Mine — mine — he  never 
told  me,  but  I  knew — I  was  to  wait  for  him.  And  you 
took  him  away.  He  left  me  to  go  to  you.  Some  day 
he  will  leave  you  to  go  to  another,  and  then  you  will 
know — what — I  know  now."  She  reeled  a  little,  but 
recovered.  "  Good-by,  Mabel,"  she  added,  and 
turned  toward  the  door. 

Before  she  reached  it  Mabel  had  caught  her.  She 
enfolded  her  in  her  arms  and  pressed  her  lips  to  the 
pale  cheek. 

"  Bessie,  you  poor  girl,"  she  said,  gently,  "  come 
back.  You  don't  understand.  He  is  nothing  to  me 
but  a  good  friend.  Come  back  and  sit  down  and 
talk.  Let's  talk  about  it,  dear.  Come  back  to  the 
sofa." 

It  was  some  minutes  before  Bessie's  sobs  would 
permit  her  to  listen,  and  then  Mabel,  with  her  arms 
about  her,  told  her  of  a  letter  from  Mr.  Breen  mailed 
at  Jupiter  Inlet.  He  and  Halpin  had  been  taken 
forcibly  to  sea  in  a  merchant  ship,  it  said ;  they  had 
become  good  friends,  and  had  left  the  ship  at  Rio 
Janeiro  just  in  time  to  join  the  Oregon  going 
north. 

"  I'll  get  the  letter  before  you  go,  Bessie,"  said 
Mabel,  "  and  we'll  read  it  together.  He  wrote  to 
me,  I  suppose,  because  he  knew  I  should  be  glad 
to  hear  from  him.  But  you  will  see,  Bessie,  just 
what  my  position  is.  Why,  he  began  the  letter  with, 
'  Dear  Miss  Arthur.'  That  is  not  lover-like." 

"But  the  ring?"  murmured  Bessie,  her  head  on 
Mabel's  shoulder.  "  You  told  me." 

"  I  did  not.     You  told  yourself ;  I  merely  allowed 


230  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

you  to.  I  was  hateful,  I  know — awfully  hateful, 
but  it  was  on  account  of  Dick." 

"  Then,  Mabel,"  said  Bessie,  as  she  straightened 
up,  "  you  do  love  Dick  Halpin." 

"  I  do  not.  I  am  not  acquainted  with  him.  I  have 
had  but  two  conversations  with  him  in  my  life.  I 
love  an  ideal,  and  of  all  the  men  I  have  met  Dick 
comes  the  nearest  to  filling  it.  He  may  not  prove 
himself — he  may  turn  out  just  as  the  papers  describe 
him,  a  rowdy  and  a  ruffian — I  do  not  know.  But,  if 
he  is  a  gentleman, — I  know  that  he  is  brave  and 
manly, — if  he  is  of  good  instincts,  honest,  and  clean- 
minded  ;  if  lie  is  of  my  class,  don't  you  see,  I  think — 
I  do  not  know.  And  that  is  all,  Bessie.  It  began 
with  his  red  hair.  Ever  since  I  have  been  able  to  see 
I  have  worshipped  red  hair.  I  do  not  know  why,  but 
I  had  to  yield  to  it.  Dick  was  my  ideal  boy,  and  I 
held  to  him  during  his  absence  while  his  hair  became 
auburn ;  but  the  habit  is  fixed.  I  shall  be  dreadfully 
disappointed  if  he  does  not  succeed  in  life — and  come 
back  to  me." 

"  But  the  ring,  Mabel,"  persisted  Bessie. 

"  A  birthday  gift  from  papa,  you  goosie.  Mr. 
Breen  selected  it  and  sent  it  with  the  bill." 

"  It  wasn't  kind  of  you,  Mabel.  I  should  not  have 
treated  you  so.  Why  did  you  let  me  think  it  was  an 
engagement  ring?  " 

"  Because,  as  I  said,  I  felt  utterly  hateful.  You 
had  deceived  me  all  along.  You  were  in  communica 
tion  with  Dick — with  my  ideal — all  the  time,  and 
you  never  told  me." 

"  Why,  Mabel." 

"  You  were,  Bessie.  You  told  me  that  day — that 
day  before  Dick  came  home,  you  know — that  you 
expected  company  and  could  not  come  over.  And 


CIVILIZATION  231 

then,  when  Mr.  Breen  called  next  day  he  said  that 
he  had  been  at  your  house  first,  and  found  Dick 
there." 

"  But  Dick  called  by  accident — I  did  not  expect 
him;  I  had  not  seen  him  since  he  went  away,  and 
hardly  knew  him.  Why,  Mabel,  how  unjust  you  have 
been!  I  did  expect  company,  but  it  was  Mr. 
Breen." 

Mabel's  eyes  opened  a  little  wider,  and  her  lips 
parted;  then  they  closed. 

"  But  why,  Bessie,"  she  said,  after  a  moment's 
silence,  "  did  not  Mr.  Breen  stay  at  your  house  if 
he  was  expected?  An  invited  guest  does  not  hurry 
away.  And  he  told  me  nothing  about  his  being  ex 
pected  at  your  house.  I  did  not  know  that  he  ever 
called  on  you." 

Bessie's  face  flushed  as  red  as  the  ribbon  at 
Mabel's  throat.  She  looked  down  and  around  the 
room — then  squarely  at  Mabel. 

"  I — I — do  not  know,"  she  said  at  last. 

"  Was  it,"  asked  Mabel,  gently,  "  because  he  found 
a  sailor  of  his  own  ship  there?  You  know  the  class 
distinctions  in  the  navy." 

Had  Bessie  agreed  to  this,  tranquillity  and  con 
fidence  might  have  been  restored  at  once;  but,  hesi 
tating  a  moment,  she  said,  "  Not  that,  exactly." 

"  Then,  why,  Bessie,  if  Mr.  Breen  was  the  ex 
pected  company,  did  he  go  away?  " 

"  Because,"  said  Bessie,  her  face  aflame,  and  des 
perately  anxious,  possibly,  to  prove  her  case,  "  he 
came  just  as  Dick  was  going,  and — and — just  in 
time  to — see — to  see  him  kiss  me.  And  he  wouldn't 
stay.  He — turned — and — went  right  away  from  me, 
and  I  have — haven't  se-seen  him  since." 

And  then  she  began  c^'ing,  while  Mabel  straight- 


MASTERS  OF  MEN 

ened  to  full  height  and  uttered  the  one  word, 
"  What ! " 

She  walked  the  full  length  of  the  room  and  back 
again. 

"  He  kissed  you,"  she  repeated ;  then,  as  Bessie 
dried  her  eyes  and  looked,  she  turned,  without  wait 
ing  for  an  answer,  and  walked  again  to  the  end  of 
the  room.  Here  she  remained  for  a  moment,  while 
Bessie's  pathetic  face  took  on  an  expression  of  de 
mure  resignation.  Mabel  returned. 

"  Bessie,"  she  said,  while  her  fingers  worked 
nervously,  "  is  this  really  so?  Did  he  kiss  you?  " 

"  Yes,  he  did,"  murmured  Bessie,  shamelessly. 
"  He  kissed  me — hard."  She  would  have  been  less 
than  a  woman  had  she  been  able  to  forego  this 
one  moment  of  triumph — this  one  dash  of  vengeance 
and  reprisal  on  the  one  who  had  so  mercilessly 
wounded  her — even  at  the  cost  of  so  shameful  an 
admission. 

"And  you  let  him?"  said  Mabel.  "You  let  him 
kiss  you?  " 

This  brought  the  matter  nearer  home;  and  Bessie, 
as  a  properly  conducted  young  lady  should,  arose  in 
her  own  defense. 

"  I  could  not  help  it,  Mabel,"  she  said,  earnestly. 
"  I  didn't  think — he  was  no  longer  the  Dick  I  knew — 
and  when  he  was  going  I — and  then — the  outer  door 
opened,  and  Mr.  Breen  saw  it." 

Mabel  seated  herself  in  a  low  reclining  chair,  threw 
herself  back  at  full  length,  and  with  fingers  tapping 
the  arms  of  the  chair  stared  at  the  ceiling  for  a  full 
five  minutes,  while  Bessie  waited  patiently.  Then 
Mabel  sat  up. 

"  What  a  fool  I  am ! "  she  said  at  length,  with  a 
toss  of  the  head.  "  He  is  a  man  among  men.  They 


CIVILIZATION  £33 

are  all  alike,  and  he  kisses  every  cook  or  waitress  that 
he  meets  alone." 

"  Oh,"  shuddered  Bessie,  "  I  hope  not." 

"  It  isn't  worth  while,  Bessie.  We  mustn't  let  it 
come  between  us  again.  It  is  not  my  business  whom 
he  kisses  until — unless — "  She  flushed  slightly — 
"  After  that  I  will  take  care  of  him." 

"  But,  Mabel,  do  you  think  " — and  the  question 
was  born  of  the  deepest  malice  of  which  Bessie  was 
capable — "  do  you  think  that  Dick  will  ever  try  ?  " 

Mabel  waited  a  moment  while  she  soberly  studied 
the  carpet. 

"  Women  can  always  be  sure  of  some  things,  Bes 
sie,"  she  said,  slowly.  "  I  looked  into  his  soul  that 
day  on  the  ship — when  he  stood  in  line  with  others, 
waiting  to  be  counted.  He  may  never  come  back  to 
me — he  may  be  a  brute  and  a  scoundrel  whom  I 
would  not  tolerate,  though  from  the  description  in 
Mr.  Breen's  letter  I  should  think  he  is  not — but, 
Bessie,  I  saw — I  know — that  I  am  to  him  what  he  is 
to  me.  Wait,  and  I  will  get  that  letter." 

They  read  it  together,  with  arms  about  each  other. 
It  was,  as  Mabel  had  said,  a  letter  couched  in  terms 
of  friendship,  containing  news  of  the  voyage  in  the 
merchant  ship  and  some  wonderful  praise  of  Dick 
Halpin,  but  no  word  of  Bessie. 

"Will  you  answer  it,  Mabel?"  she  asked,  as  the 
letter  was  folded. 

"  Of  course,"  said  Mabel,  and  her  lips  set  firmly. 
"  I  shall  write  and  give  my  opinion  of  a  man  who 
can  treat  you  so.  I  shall  scold  him  as  he  never  was 
scolded  before." 

Bessie  rose  to  her  feet  in  all  the  dignity  of  a 
woman  sure  of  her  position. 

"  Mabel,  you  must  not,"  she  declared,  vehemently ; 


234  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

"  you  must  not  mention  my  name  to  him.  I  forbid  it. 
He  condemned  me  unheard,  and  went  away.  Now  let 
him  come  back — when  he  is  ready."  There  were 
tears  in  her  eyes  again. 

Mabel  smiled,  and  drew  her  back  to  the  couch. 

"  Well,  dear,  I  won't,  then,"  she  said ;  "  I'll  do  bet 
ter.  I'll  tell  him  that  his  rival  is  wealthy;  that  the 
sailor  boy  who  comes  home  and  kisses  his  darling  is 
heir  to  a  fortune,  and  is  sure  to  come  home  again. 
Perhaps  he  will  kiss  her  again." 

"  He  won't,"  stormed  Bessie.  "  And  don't  you 
mention  that  kissing,  Mabel;  don't  you  dare.  He'll 
only  think  I'm  talking  about  him,  and — I'm  not — 
he  don't  deserve — " 

And  Mabel  promised,  and  kissed  her  herself  into 
peace  and  tranquillity  and  hope. 


CHAPTER  XLVII 

A  FEW  days  after  Bessie  casually  glanced  over  a 
back  number  of  the  Evening  Times,  which  she 
had  neglected  reading  when  issued.  It  contained  the 
account  of  the  delayed  commencement  exercises  of 
the  graduating  class  of  the  High  School.  Promi 
nent  in  the  account  was  an  abstract  of  an  essay 
written  and  read  by  Mr.  Edward  Brown  on  "  Journal 
ism  as  a  Profession."  The  prominence  given  to  this 
part  of  the  programme  came  of  the  fact,  of  which 
Bessie  was  aware,  that  Ned  Brown's  father  was  the 
editor  of  the  paper.  Certain  peculiarities  of  style  in 
duced  her  to  hunt  for  and  re-read  the  editorial  which 
had  prompted  her  visit  to  Mabel — the  same  peculiari 
ties  of  style  were  apparent  in  both.  At  the  news 
paper  office,  she  searched  the  files  and  found  the 


CIVILIZATION  235 

account  of  the  riot  in  which  Dick  Halpin  was  called 
a  thief.  There  were  the  same  touches  of  phrasing 
and  punctuation — obviously  the  three  articles  were 
written  by  the  same  hand.  Buying  a  copy,  she  took 
it  home,  and  with  scissors  and  mucilage  prepared  an 
exhibit  of  the  three  cuttings,  then  bided  her  time. 

It  came  a  few  evenings  later  when  she  ushered  into 
her  small  parlor  a  caller, — a  tall,  well-dressed  young 
man  with  a  budding  mustache,  and  hair  symmetrically 
divided  into  fluffy  halves.  Her  greeting  was  formal, 
almost  frigid,  but  the  young  man's  smiling  self-as 
surance  suffered  no  shock  until  he  had  turned  around 
once  or  twice  and  seated  himself  in  the  best  chair; 
then  he  noticed  the  calm,  cold  disapproval  in  Bessie's 
blue  eyes  and  arose  to  his  feet.  His  hostess  had 
remained  standing,  fingering  a  scrap-book  on  the 
table. 

"  Why,  Bessie,"  he  said,  "  what's  up  ?  Lost  your 
mother,  or — " 

"  No,  Mr.  Brown,"  she  interrupted,  incisively, 
"  mother  is  well." 

"  But — why,  Bessie — Mr.  Brown  ?  It  used  to  be 
plain  Ned." 

"  I  have  but  lately  read  your  essay  on  *  Journal 
ism,'  Mr.  Brown  " — she  emphasized  the  prefix — 
"  and  feel  much  impressed.  I  could  not  presume  to 
such  familiarity  as  to  call  you  Ned  after  reading  it. 
Really,  I  did  not  dream  that  you  wrote  so  well." 

"Is  that  so,  honest,  now?"  he  answered,  delight 
edly.  "  Well,  now,  I'm  glad  you  liked  it.  I'm  going 
in  for  it,  you  know,  with  father." 

"  So  I  surmised.  I  cut  it  out  and  put  it  in  my 
scrap-book,  it  was  so  good,"  she  purred.  "  And  here 
is  something  else  that  I'm  sure  is  yours.  Why,  no 
one  else  could  write  so  nicely." 


236  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

She  opened  the  book,  and  he  approached  her  side, 
a  little  soberly,  for  the  sarcasm  in  her  voice  was  be 
coming  apparent.  She  pointed  to  a  clipping — the 
one  containing  speculations  as  to  Breen's  murder. 

"  You  wrote  that,  too,  Mr.  Brown,  did  you  not?  " 
demanded  Bessie. 

"  Oh — that,  yes,  I  wrote  it.  The  governor  lets 
me  write  an  editorial  now  and  then,  you  know.  I 
expect  before  long  to  have  full  charge  of  that  page." 

"  And  do  you  think,"  said  Bessie,  sternly,  "  that 
Dick  Halpin,  the  boy  you  knew  at  school,  would 
murder  any  one  ?  " 

"  Why — why,  Bessie — why  not  ?  He's  a  low  ruf 
fian — a  rowdy — " 

"  He  is  not,"  snapped  Bessie.  "  He  is  a  gentleman 
past  your  comprehension,  Ned  Brown.  Why  do  you 
hate  him  so?  Has  he  ever  harmed  you?  Did  he 
harm  you  that  day  he  came  home?  If  I  am  rightly 
informed,  you  were  the  only  one  of  that  cowardly 
band  that  escaped." 

"  He  couldn't  catch  me,"  answered  Ned,  vaguely, 
stupidly,  but  somewhat  proudly. 

"  So  I  heard.  I  heard  you  described  as  a  young 
man  who  could  not  fight  very  well,  but  could  run  like 
—sixty." 

"  Now,  Bessie,"  protested  Ned,  "  this  isn't  fair. 
I'm  no  tough  scrapper  with  my  fists,  if  he  is — " 

"  But  you  are  moderately  proficient  with  your 
feet,  Mr.  Brown;  you  can  kick  a  small  boy  when 
you  have  others  to  assist  you.  Please  do  not  call 
him  names  in  my  presence.  Here  is  something  else 
that  you  wrote." 

She  showed  him  the  account  of  the  riot.  Ned  said 
nothing,  but  looked  troubled. 

"  You  wrote  that  falsehood,  willfully,  Mr.  Brown. 


CIVILIZATION  237 

You  know,  and  you  knew  then,  that  Dick  Halpin  was 
innocent  of  that  charge.  You  knew  that  he  never 
wore  the  name  of  thief  but  one  week,  for  he  was 
cleared  by  the  confession  of  the  real  culprit — " 

"  But — really — I'd  forgotten,  Bessie ;  I  really  had 
forgotten — " 

"  You  did  not  forget ;  but  you  supposed  him  ut 
terly  friendless  in  this  town,  and  you  made  a  mistake. 
Do  you  care  for  my  future  acquaintance?  " 

"  Of  course,  Bessie,  of  course  I  do.  Haven't  I 
been  coming  to  see — " 

"  Then  you  will  rescind  in  your  father's  paper 
every  slander  against  Dick  Halpin  you  have  uttered." 

"  How  can  I?  Father  is  supposed  to  edit  the  page. 
He  won't  reverse  himself  just  for  me.  Besides, 
George  Arthur  is  a  gentleman  and  an  officer  of  the 
navy.  It  won't  do — " 

"  It  will  do ;  but  you  need  not  mention  George 
Arthur.  On  his  sister's  account  alone  I  would  not 
have  you  mention  him ;  but  you  will  retract  your 
words  in  regard  to  Dick  Halpin — my  friend  from 
the  first,  understand — or  I  will  never  speak  to  you 
again." 

Bessie  moved  toward  the  door  and  turned  to  face 
him.  Ned  followed  and  passed  her,  halting  as  he  took 
his  hat  from  the  rack  in  the  hall. 

"  I've  got  to  do  it,  I  suppose,  somehow,"  he  said 
painfully ;  "  but  it's  like  pulling  teeth,  and  father — " 

She  had  turned  away  from  him. 

Ned  passed  out,  and  Bessie  collapsed  in  tears. 
She  was  not  a  natural  diplomat,  and  the  ordeal 
had  taxed  her  nerves.  But  she  said  nothing  to 
Mabel  about  a  problem  affecting  the  good  name  of 
her  brother,  even  though  their  renewed  friendship 
reached  a  confidence  and  an  intimacy  which  it  had 


£38  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

never  known  before.  And  soon,  this  friendship  was 
tested  by  a  strain  that  roused  to  its  fullness  all  the 
latent  womanhood  of  her  immature  nature — at  a 
time  when  the  country  rang  with  gladness  over  the 
destruction  of  Cervera's  fleet,  and  a  sister  alterna 
tively  raved  and  moaned  over  the  loss  of  a  brother. 
It  was  Bessie,  the  affectionate  and  dependent,  who 
knew  how  to  comfort  and  subdue  the  frantic  Mabel; 
and  perhaps  not  the  least  of  the  anodynes  for  this 
awful  grief  of  twin  for  twin  was  her  oft-repeated 
formula, — 

"  Dick  was  saved ;  he'll  come  back." 

Either  the  beneficent  effect  of  the  formula  or 
youth  and  good  health  sufficed  to  bring  to  Mabel,  as 
the  weeks  passed,  composure  of  mind  and  self-con 
trol  sufficient  for  the  small  orderings  of  her  daily 
life;  she  received  and  read  her  own  letters.  One, 
from  Breen,  written  at  Key  West,  and  dated  August 
-5,  began  with  condolences,  which  no  matter  how 
heartfelt  the  sympathy  of  friend  for  friend,  can 
only  be  expressed  in  a  few  stultified  phrases  of  hack 
neyed  English ;  then  followed  more  business-like  news, 
derived  at  first  hand  from  the  wrecking  party  that 
had  raised  the  sunken  steam  launch  in  the  Santiago 
channel,  to  the  effect  that  the  tide  had  washed  all 
the  bodies  away,  and  that  the  chances  were  against 
their  being  recovered;  then  the  writer,  drifting  into 
the  slap-dash  style  of  a  man  writing  hurriedly  in  the 
midst  of  duties,  had  this  to  say: 

MI  have  spent  an  hour  with  Dick  Halpin  at  the  hospital 
ashore  here;  he  is  doing  well,  considering  that  he  was  shot 
full  of  holes,  half-drowned,  rammed  by  a  big,  fast  cruiser, 
and  then  nearly  roasted  alive — in  the  language  of  Seaman 
Morrisey,  who  rescued  him — Morrisey,  of  your  town,  who  kept 
the  hotel — know  him?  Morrisey  said  to  me  at  Guantanamo  that 
"Dick  wuz  a-cookin'  all  right,  but  thers  bein'  no  one  there 


CIVILIZATION 

to  turn  him  an'  baste  him  proper-like,  he  got  scorched  on  one 
side.'  Dick  will  pull  through  without  doubt,  but  he  is,  men 
tally,  in  a  bad  way.  He  thinks  that  if  he  had  asserted  him 
self — think  of  it,  a  seaman  against  an  officer — that  he  might 
have  prevented  your  brother  from  going  into  the  harbor.  As- 
a  properly  educated  and  superior-minded  graduate  of  An 
napolis  should  do,  I  took  that  conceit  out  of  him;  but  there 
remains  to  him  this — that  your  brother's  death  furnished  him 
with  his  opportunity — which  has  resulted  in  a  typewritten  let 
ter  from  a  certain  high  official  at  Washington,  and  he  keeps 
it  under  his  pillow,  taking  it  out  to  read  occasionally, — and  you 
cannot  imagine  what  this  letter  means  to  a  blue-jacket  of  the 
navy, — but  over  it  all  is  his  accusing  conscience,  that,  to  get 
this  letter,  he  allowed  your  brother  to  die.  In  fact,  he  did  not^ 
he  would  have  been  open  to  court-martial  and  disgrace  had 
he  interfered  as  he  thinks  he  should;  but  of  this  I  cannot  wholly 
convince  him;  it  is  for  you  to  help  me  when  you  see  him. 
Your  admonition  to  come  home  an  officer  had  a  strong  influ 
ence  on  Dick's  action  that  morning,  and  his  dare-devil  attempt 
to  run  four  batteries  in  broad  daylight,  and  certain  admissions 
which  he  has  unconsciously  let  slip,  prove  to  me — well,  I  am 
saying  too  much.  Will  you  please  say  to  Miss  Fleming,  when 
you  see  her,  that  I  have  learned  that  Dick  had  not  been  home 
since  he  left  four  years  ago  until  this  summer?  It  is  very 
likely  that  Dick  and  I  will  come  home  together,  as  the  war 
will  surely  end  soon,  and  he  is  almost  able  to  travel,  and  I,  on 
detached  duty,  can  easily  obtain  leave." 

Mabel  read  the  letter  to  Bessie,  then  said :  "  Father 
will  invite  them  here,  for  he  was  with  George  when 
he  died.  Shall  you  be  here  when  they  come,  Bessie?  '* 

Bessie  shivered,  flushed,  and  steadied  herself. 

"  No,  Mabel,  he  will  bring  Dick  home,  of  course, 
and  he  will  come  to  you  first.  But — I  shall  be  in  my 
own  home." 


CHAPTER  XLVin 

HREE  weeks  later  Breen  and  Dick  boarded  a« 
afternoon  train  at  the  Grand  Central  Station  in 
New  York.  Both  were  in  the  undress  uniform  of 
commissioned  naval  officers ;  but,  even  aside  from  this 
change,  few  of  Dick's  old  messmates  would  have 


240  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

recognized  him.  His  eyes  held  the  soft  light,  and 
his  features  the  super-refinement  which  always  comes 
of  extreme  physical  suffering.  He  was  paler  than 
usual,  and  a  master  of  the  "  dapper  art "  had  re 
duced  his  wavy  hair  to  fashionable  length  and  con 
tour,  and  a  sick-bed  growth  on  his  erstwhile  smooth 
face  to  a  compact  and  becoming  mustache.  It  was 
Breen  who  had  groomed  him — Breen  who  had  cap 
tiously  criticised  the  tailor's  work  to  the  last  wrinkle 
and  misplaced  line  of  stitching,  who  had  accompa 
nied  him  to  the  navy  yard  for  his  pay  and  honorable 
discharge  as  seaman  apprentice,  and  while  there 
made  much  of  him  to  officers,  old  and  young — gen 
tlemen  all,  who  cordially  welcomed  him  as  one  of 
themselves  and  candidly  envied  him  his  record.  Then 
he  had  engineered  him  to  the  station  to  accept  Mr. 
Arthur's  invitation  to  visit  his  home. 

"  It's  too  cheap,"  Dick  protested,  as  they  took 
seats,  "  this  jumping  into  uniform  at  the  first 
chance." 

"  You  were  told  to  come  home  an  officer,"  said 
Breen,  firmly,  "  and  you're  going  to  do  it.  It  is  my 
part  to  see  that  you  do." 

"  But  do  you  think — it's  all  right  in  your  case — 
but  in  mine,  won't  she — won't  Miss  Arthur  see 
through  the  sham?  Will  she  think  any  better  of  me 
for  this  dressing  to  a  part?  " 

"  You  are  an  acting  ensign  of  the  United  States 
navy,"  answered  Breen,  thumping  his  knee  with  his 
fist.  "  You  are  on  sick  leave  under  orders  from  the 
Secretary  of  the  Navy  to  report,  when  well,  to 
Annapolis  for  special  instruction.  What  more  do 
you  want,  Dick  ?  " 

"  You  see,"  went  on  Dick,  "  I've  always  looked  up 
to  her,  and — " 


CIVILIZATION 

"  Out  with  it.  I  gathered  by  your  half -crazy  talk 
at  Key  West  that  you  loved  her." 

"  Well — yes,"  said  Dick,  defiantly.  "  I  never 
could  help  it,  although  I  haven't  met  her  but  twice  in 
my  life.  But  I  can  keep  my  place,  I  promise  you, 
and  when  you're  married — " 

"  When  who's  married?  " 

"  You  and  Miss  Arthur ;  when — " 

"  She  and  I  will  never  be  married  if  I  can  help  it. 
What  put  that  into  your  head?  She  never  allowed 
me  to  get  fond  of  her." 

"  Why,  aren't  you  ?  "  gasped  Dick,  leaning  back 
against  the  cushion.  He  was  still  weak  from  sick 
ness  and  vulnerable  to  shock.  "  I  was  told  so — Miss 
Fleming — "  He  stopped,  not  knowing  how  far  he 
might  be  violating  a  confidence. 

"Bessie  told  you?  What  game  is  she  playing, 
anyhow,"  said  Breen,  with  a  puzzled  face.  "  Well, 
no  matter.  I'll  know  before  long ;  but  tell  me,  Dick," 
he  added,  earnestly,  "  is  there,  or  rather  was  there, 
anything  between  you  and  Bessie  ?  " 

"  Nothing  but  what  you  saw,"  said  Dick,  dimly 
beginning  to  realize  the  truth.  "  I  hadn't  seen  her 
since  leaving  school — we  were  chums  then — and  I 
called  to  get  news  of  the  gang  I  was  after;  then, 
as  I  was  about  to  leave,  I  obeyed  an  impulse." 

"  And  so  did  I,"  said  Breen,  musingly.  "  I've 
been  a  jealous  fool.  How  did  she  take  it — if  it's  a 
fair  question?  " 

"  She  put  me  out,"  answered  Dick,  gloomily ; 
"  hated  me — I  was  never  to  speak  to  her  again.  And 
she  wrote  her  further  opinion  of  me  to  the  Vermont." 

"Did  she?"  laughed  Breen.  "Bless  her — and 
sent  the  letter  in  my  care,  and  made  matters  worse. 
She  must  have  known  that  I'd  recognize  her  hand- 


MASTERS  OF  MEN 

writing.  I  thought  you  were  in  close  correspondence, 
and  that  it  was  a  delicate  hint  for  me  to  step  down 
and  out." 

"  No ;  I  never  got  such  a  roasting  in  my  life ;  and 
she  even  enclosed  a  clipping  from  the  paper  calling 
me  all  sorts  of  hard  names.  It  was  in  that  letter  that 
she  told  of  your  engagement  to  Miss  Arthur.  Why, 
she  spoke  of  the  engagement  ring — a  diamond." 

"  A  diamond?  Yes,  I  selected  one  for  her  and  sent 
it  from  New  York ;  but  her  father  paid  for  it." 

"  It  was  easy  for  me  to  believe  it,"  said  Dick. 
""  She  had  teased  me  about  you  in  the  house,  and 
after  my  eviction  I  followed  you  to  the  corner  and 
saw  you  call  at  the  Arthurs'." 

"  There's  something  funny  behind  all  this,  Dick," 
said  Breen,  after  a  moment's  thought.  "  It  was 
Miss  Arthur  herself  who  clinched  my  suspicions  con 
cerning  you  and  Bessie.  I  understand  now  what  ailed 
you  in  the  navy  yard,  but  thought  you  were  an  all- 
round  crank,  sore  at  me  for  catching  you  kissing 
your  best  girl.  Dick,  we've  done  well.  In  spite  of 
this  mutual  distrust  and  jealousy,  we've  managed  to 
become  good  friends.  Let  it  go  at  that  for  the 
present." 

"  I've  a  hazy  remembrance,  or  it  may  be  that  I 
dreamed  it,  that  you  began  something  about  this 
matter  in  that  back  room  where  we  were  drugged. 
But  I  cannot  recollect  just  what  it  was." 

"  I  can,"  said  Breen,  decidedly.  "  every  word  of 
it;  but  there's  no  occasion  to  repeat  it  now.  We 
are  too  close  to  the  climax.  I  wonder,"  he  added 
softly  and  slowly,  as  he  leaned  back  and  closed  his 
eyes,  "  what  my  reception  will  be.  There  are  de 
grees  of  asininity;  where  do  I  stand?  " 

Dick   could  not  tell   him,   and  was   satisfied   with 


CIVILIZATION 

silence  and  the  music  of  his  own  thoughts,  until  the 
train  reached  Allville. 

Mabel's  father,  sad-faced,  but  genial,  met  them  on 
the  platform. 

"  I  received  your  telegram,"  he  said,  as  he  shook 
hands  with  Breen,  "  and  hurried  over  to  meet  you ; 
but  I  have  only  a  few  minutes, — board  meeting,  you 
see,  and  I  am  wanted, — and  this  is  Mr.  Halpin,"  he 
added,  offering  Dick  his  hand.  "  I  recognize  you  as 
the  sailor  who  revolutionized  our  town  government — 
this,  in  fact,  is  the  business  before  the  board.  I  con 
gratulate  you,  young  man,  on  your  promotion.  You 
were  with  my  son  when  he  died,  I  hear  " — the  old 
gentleman's  voice  quavered  a  little — "  and  when  we 
have  time  you  must  tell  me  how  he  died." 

"  I  can  tell  you  now,  Mr.  Arthur,"  said  Dick, 
gravely  and  earnestly ;  "  he  died  like  a  man — a  brave 
man." 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  that — but — you  must  tell  me 
•all.  Meanwhile,  both  of  you,  consider  my  house 
your  home  while  you  are  here.  Mabel  is  expecting 
you.  I  cannot  be  at  dinner,  I  fear ;  but  you  will  go 
at  once  to  the  house,  will  you  not?  " 

"  Thank  you,  no,  Mr.  Arthur,"  answered  Breen. 
"  We'll  call  in  the  evening.  We're  a  little  travel- 
stained  at  present." 

"  Well,  I'm  off.    I  will  see  you  in  the  evening." 

They  went  to  the  Hotel  Morrisey,  still  wearing 
its  large  sign,  though  the  versatile  Morrisey  was 
replaced  by  a  stranger. 

"  Did  I  tell  you,"  asked  Dick,  as  they  seated  them 
selves  in  the  dining-room,  "  that  Morrisey  and  Bron- 
son  came  to  see  me  in  the  hospital?  Morrisey  lost 
his  license  on  account  of  the  trouble,  but  he  still 
owns  this  place.  The  plan  is  for  Bronson  to  take 


MASTERS  OF  MEN 

out  the  license  when  their  time  is  out,  and  settle 
down  as  Morrisey's  partner." 

"  Good  wind-up  for  an  old  sailor,"  remarked 
Breen,  as  he  reached  for  the  bill  of  fare.  "  Hello, 
what's  the  matter  with  him  ?  " 

A  young  man  had  hurriedly  entered  the  dining- 
room,  but,  on  seeing  the  two  officers  at  the  table, 
had  turned,  and  as  hurriedly  bolted  from  the 


room. 

(( 


It's  Ned  Brown,"  said  Dick,  with  a  laugh,  "  the 
only  one  of  the  crowd  that  I  missed  that  day.  Per 
haps  he  feared  his  turn  had  come." 

They  caught  a  momentary  glimpse  of  Ned 
through  the  open  door,  negotiating  with  a  newsboy; 
then  he  disappeared  from  sight,  and  the  boy,  hat  in 
hand,  entered  the  dining-room  and  advanced  toward 
them. 

"  Mr.  Brown's  compliments,  sir,  to  Mr.  Hal- 
pin,"  he  said,  and  laid  a  paper  before  them. 
Then  he  vanished,  while  Dick  glanced  through  the 
paper. 

"  Things  certainly  are  coming  my  way,"  he  said  at 
last.  He  handed  the  paper  to  Breen,  with  his  finger 
marking  a  column.  "  Read  it  aloud.  I  only  read 
part."  Breen  read  the  following: 

"  Through  misapprehension  and  misinformation  on  our  part, 
we  have  in  these  columns  made  certain  disparaging  comments 
on  Richard  Halpin,  formerly  a  native  of  Allville,  and  who, 
as  most  of  our  readers  will  remember,  returned  lately  and 
served  out  some  poetic  justice  to  certain  enemies  of  his  school 
days.  Among  the  comments  we  made  at  the  time,  and  which 
we  take  pleasure  in  retracting,  was  one  concerning  his  hon 
esty,  wherein  we  erroneously  charged  him  with  being  expelled 
from  school  for  stealing.  As  we  learn,  such  a  charge  was 
made,  but  we  are  aware  now  that  Mr.  Halpin  was  clearly  and 
honorably  cleared  of  the  stigma  at  the  time  it  happened.  Mr. 
Halpin  has  acquitted  himself  with  great  credit  to  himself  as 
a  sailor  in  the  navy  during  the  late  war,  having  won  his  spurs, 
or  rather  his  epaulettes,  by  cool-headed  daring  during  the 


CIVILIZATION  245 

blockade  of  Santiago.  Mr.  Halpin  is  shortly  expected  to  visit 
Allville,  where,  we  are  informed,  a  large  property  awaits  him. 
It  is  hoped  that  he  will  continue  to  make  Allville  his  home." 

"  And  not  a  word  about  the  man  that  stopped  the 
riot  and  saved  all  their  blooming  lives,"  remarked 
Breen,  with  a  grimly  humorous  frown.  "  They'll 
make  a  hero  of  you,  Dick,  if  you  allow  it.  They'll 
give  you  a  sword  and  gold  epaulettes  and  make 
speeches  over  you;  and  you'll  have  to  respond,  and 
say  how  your  heart  always  warmed  to  your  old 
home." 

"  Not  much,"  shivered  Dick.  "  Not  while  I  can 
run.  Still  it  is  good  to  read  such  things  about  your 
self  when  you've  felt  for  years  that  every  one  thought 
the  reverse  of  you.  Look !  We're  holding  a  levee — 
look  at  them !  " 

A  shifting,  shuffling  crowd  of  men  and  boys  passed 
back  and  forth  before  the  door  and  windows,  peeping 
in  as  they  passed.  Another  crowd  was  gathering 
in  the  office,  respectfully  inspecting  the  two  as  they 
ate.  From  this  crowd  came  a  man  through  the  door 
— a  sunburned  man  carrying  a  horsewhip. 

"  And  this  is  Dick,"  he  said,  boisterously,  as  he 
reached  out  his  hand.  "  Ned's  lad  Dick.  Oh,  we've 
kept  track  o'  you,  lad,  out  on  the  farm.  I'm  not 
goin'  to  stay  and  disturb  you  now,  only  I've  just  got 
to  stop  and  shake  hands  and  clap  you  on  the  back. 
Bully  for  you,  Dick;  and  say,  just  consider  to  my 
credit,  won't  you,  that  if  I'd  given  you  a  job  on  my 
farm,  you  wouldn't  be  here  now,  would  you?  "  He 
brought  his  open  hand  down  on  Dick's  shoulders  with 
force  that  hurt,  and  was  gone. 

"  Mr.  Bronson,"  said  Dick,  in  answer  to  Breen's 
inquiring  glance.  "  First  man  I  asked  for  work. 
And  here's  Mr.  Clark."  He  rose  to  his  feet. 


246  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

"  I've  just  a  minute,  Richard,"  said  the  school 
master,  approaching  from  the  street  door;  "just 
a  minute  in  which  to  congratulate  you.  Mr.  Arthur 
has  just  informed  me  of  your  arrival.  There  is  no 
success  like  success,  Richard,  is  there?  Really,  I 
think  I  can  say  that  you  are  the  most  successful  of 
all  my  pupils.  Have  you  brought  your  body-guard 
this  time?" 

"  No,  Mr.  Clark,"  answered  Dick,  respectfully. 
"  Let  me  introduce  Mr.  Breen,  of  the  navy — my  old 
teacher,  Breen.  I  hope  you  don't  think  that  I've  de 
clared  endless  war,  sir."  . 

"  I  should  hope  not,"  said  the  principal  with  a 
forgiving  smile.  "  For  in  that  case  we  will  need  a 
larger  police  force  than  we  are  getting.  You 
will  remain  with  us  awhile?  Yes?  Well,  I  will 
see  you  again.  By  the  way,  at  Mr.  Arthur's  sug 
gestion,  a  few  of  us  have  considered — er — a  little 
banquet — a  reception,  you  know.  Naval  heroes 
are  scarce  with  us  and  we  must  make  the  most  of 
them." 

He  hurried  away  before  Dick  could  reply,  and 
Breen  sank  back  in  a  fit  of  laughter. 

"  Told  you  so,"  he  sang,  as  he  looked  into  Dick's 
worried  face. 

"  I'll  clear  out  first,"  said  Dick,  savagely,  "  and  I 
can't  stand  much  more  of  this,  either,"  he  looked  at 
the  still  growing  crowd  without.  "  Let's  bolt  this 
grub  and  get  out  of  sight." 

They  finished  the  meal  and  sought  the  parlor, 
from  which,  two  hours  later,  they  emerged,  to  enter 
a  cab,  neither  being  willing  to  head  a  parade  through 
the  streets,  and  in  less  than  ten  minutes  stood  in 
Mabel  Arthur's  parlor, — Breen  with  a  joke  and  a 
smile  for  everything,  Dick,  sober  and  somewhat  ill 


CIVILIZATION  247 

at  ease.  He  had  fought  his  way  to  this  new  world, 
but  it  was  yet  strange  to  him. 

An  inner  door  opened,  and  Mabel  appeared, 
gowned  in  black,  but  with  color  in  her  cheeks,  and 
the  beauty  in  her  face  unmarred  by  the  sorrow  in  her 
eyes.  With  the  old  swift  glance  at  both,  she  ad 
vanced,  smiling  slightly  to  Breen,  but  paying  no 
attention  at  all  to  Dick. 

"  I  am  glad  you've  come  at  last,"  she  said,  in  the 
full,  musical  tones  which  Dick  could  only  remember 
in  his  dreams.  "  Have  you  see  Bessie?  " 

"  Not  yet,  Miss  Arthur,"  laughed  Breen,  as  he 
took  her  extended  hand. 

"  I  was  in  duty  bound  to  bring  him  here,  you  know, 
before  doing  anything  else.  I  believed  that  you 
have  never -been  formally  introduced" — he  waved 
his  hand  toward  Dick — "  my  friend,  Ensign  Hal- 
pin,  of  the  navy — he  has  come  home  an  officer 
and—" 

"  He  has  done  well ;  and  you — have  not.  Take 
your  cap  and  go  to  Bessie.  At  once  " — she  spoke 
imperiously,  though  still  smiling.  "  Do  not  come 
back  without  her." 

"  But  won't  you  please  acknowledge  the  introduc 
tion,"  protested  Breen ;  "  can't  I  see  you  shake  hands 
with  him?  My  friend,  you  know." 

"  I  will  take  care  of  him.    Go !  " 

She  resolutely  pointed  to  the  door. 

"  All  right,"  said  Breen,  laughingly  backing 
away.  "  Dick,  take  warning.  I'm  put  out.  I  know 
all  about  it  now." 

He  disappeared  through  the  door,  and  the  girl 
turned  toward  Dick. 

"  He  has  almost  broken  her  heart,"  she  said.  "  A 
man  should  not  do  that." 


248  MASTERS  OF  MEN 

"  I  knew,"  he  answered,  slightly  inclining  his 
head. 

She  slowly  approached  him,  her  lips  trembling  as 
though  she  were  about  to  speak.  Almost  involun 
tarily  he  advanced  to  meet  her.  Gray  eyes  looked 
into  black — black  into  gray.  Deep  spoke  unto  deep ; 
and  Mabel  and  Dick,  in  this,  the  third  meeting  of 
their  lives,  drew  closer  and  closer  together;  then, 
with  his  arms  about  her  waist,  their  lips  met. 


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